Storms of Ice and Fire
by Please Call me Cordelia
Summary: After the war Zuko chooses Mai due to political pressures. Katara, embittered and vengeful, goes to the one person who can help her blackmail him and win him back: Ozai. But Ozai has conditions of his own and their alliance takes an unexpected turn. Will Katara find a path that leads back to Zuko? Or will the poison in her heart careen her toward a far different fate?
1. Slants of Light

Night still hid the withering dawn but a touch of pale light rimmed the skyline of Caldera City. Katara paced along the path that snaked out from the capitol of the Fire Nation into a span of trees that blanketed the southern border of the city. She must have been waiting for hours, as night slowly died to morning, the hooded cloak concealing her face in complete darkness like a banshee. Maybe he wasn't going to come, she thought. It would hardly surprise her, after everything. She sighed, hugging her arms around her waist, half hoping, half fearing what it might mean if he did come. What it would mean if he didn't.

The scuff of a shoe and faint footsteps crunching on the dirt path, and Katara could see the vague shape of someone materializing from the shadows. Her breath caught in her throat as equal measures of desire and dread pulsed through her like an electric shock. The odds were small that it could be anyone else at this time of night – er, morning –, but if it were an off-duty guard or councilman out for a very early walk…? If she were discovered, cloaked and waiting in secret at the edge of the city, they wouldn't need to guess at her reason for being here. Or who she waited for. It had been made very clear what would happen if they were found out again.

As the shape grew closer, his face caught in slants of light where it was exposed beneath his hood, and Katara released a silent breath. The angle of his jaw, where she had peppered long kisses in hidden nights of passion. The fair skin that had brushed against hers, smooth as silk, porcelain contrasting daringly against mocha as their bodies had met, pulse to pulse. She would know him anywhere. But if that left any doubt, the tip of the scar peeking out from under his covering betrayed any misgivings she might have had.

She allowed a faint smile to perch on her lips as she took in a shallow breath and stepped toward him.

"Zuko," she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come." He was silent as he came to stand before her now and his scent carried in the air between them, spiced and warm and bright. "We haven't been able to be alone in so long, I had to see you and I wanted to talk–"

"How many people did you tell?"

Katara blinked, the smile melting off her face. "What? Why?"

"I was followed," Zuko said brusquely. "I think I managed to lose them, but whoever it was they saw me leave. So I'm asking you again. How many people did you tell?"

"Wh– No one." Her eyes flitted away briefly as it came rushing back to her. "Well, I may have told Sokka but he would never–"

"The walls have ears, Katara. You should know that by now. Speaking of it to anyone could be as good as exposing us to the entire royal palace."

Her shoulders sagged as her lips worked, trying to find the words. In the end all she could choke out was, "I'm sorry."

A moment passed between them, long and suffocating. "We can't do this anymore. _I_ can't do this anymore. I'm watched too closely. Our little trysts are hardly a secret, and my guards will go to _great lengths_ to remove any threat to my ability to lead as Fire Lord." He paused to let his meaning sink in. "There's too much on the line. Reputation, political obligations. Upholding the fragile peace that, by some miracle, we've maintained so far. There are many in the Fire Nation who still align with my father and would jump at the first chance to take down his usurper." Zuko sighed deeply. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet before his eyes found hers again. "I'm sorry, Katara." His voice was strained and tired. "I do love you. But I _have_ to marry Mai, for the good of my people." He kept his hands in his pockets as he spoke, his posture closed. And with it closed her heart. "I respect you far too much to let you carry on as my harlot. We have to end this."

Her jaw went slack. His harlot? Was that what she was to him?

The hope she had fostered was now ashes at her feet, her stomach a lead weight, hard and heavy. "I– I thought we talked about this. Our love could be good for the Fire Nation, for the world. Fire and Water coming together in mutual love and respect – we would be a symbol of the peace we've promised."

"I wish it were that simple. But it's not." He paced slowly, hands in his pockets, fragments of washed-out shadow sweeping over his face in turns. It was approaching dawn now and they didn't have much time left.

Hot tears were brimming in her eyes and a wave of anger was rising to compete with the pain. "If you really wanted to make this work, you would. You don't _have_ to marry Mai. You're _choosing_ her." In a scratchy half-whisper, the ragged words choked out.

"Katara, I'm not–" The joyful trill of a songbird in the treetops heralded the breach of morning. Through the canopy of leaves, pale light leaked onto the beaten path at their feet. "I have to go. The servants have probably already noticed I'm gone." His voice was thick with resignation. He turned away and then stopped, looking over his shoulder, his honey-gold eyes fixing on hers one last time. "Goodbye." And then she watched him slip back down the path and shrink from view, from her life, until he became part of the landscape and was gone.

Katara stood, suffocating in the gulf of nothingness where Zuko had been moments ago. His words left a scar on her heart.

He chose her.

 _He chose her._

Bitterness pumped its white-hot venom through her veins. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be the one discarded. He loved her, he said he did. He couldn't possibly see himself bound to that stale, lifeless excuse for a woman. Surely he only made the choice to protect his country, to protect her. Since joining Aang, he had become selfless, sacrificing so much for the greater good that his judgment had become clouded. His actions now must stem from something deeper there. But how wrong he was this time, he had to see that.

Her thoughts were spinning now. What if she could show him that? She could get him back. Whatever it took, there was no obstacle she was unwilling to forge if it meant they could be together again. Not in secret, as they had been since his coronation as Fire Lord, but openly and unashamed.

But she knew Zuko. Oh, she knew him. Once his mind was made up, wild horses couldn't drag him from it. What would it take? Persuasion? Manipulation?

Blackmail…?

And just like that, her thoughts avalanched into a larger idea. His reputation was on the line, he'd said. Well, maybe he needed a little shake to his reputation to ground him, to remind him that it isn't everything. To show him that she'd stand by him through anything.

Out of her anguish, a plan was blooming. Almost a living, breathing thing, this idea, it grew so quickly, so easily.

And it definitely didn't involve wild horses.


	2. Ash on the Wind

_She sat on the beach. A hand brushed the hair from her neck, a familiar voice heavy with her shared desire, longing, wishes and dreams. No shadows hid their passion, laughter light on the breeze where the storms of war had been moments ago._

 _A blink and suddenly she was standing in the palace courtyard. Coronation day. Amber eyes burned the space between them from where he knelt up on the veranda. The Fire Lord's headpiece slipped over his topknot. His helpless expression said it all. Dreams crumbling, ash on the wind. A Fire Lord's duty, they had said, and Water had no place in it. Not like that._

 _Fog billowed in and then she was alone in the thick grey curls. And when it cleared, she was inside the palace, in the great hall. He was there too, but that woman's arms hung around his neck like a noose, squeezing, strangling. Her smile stretched unnaturally from ear to ear, her teeth filed to sickening points. In every direction, the stern eyes of the council watched, never blinking. Watching, damning._

 _A starless night. In the black velvet of shadows he ushered her into his quarters, and she sunk beneath him in a sea of satin and they were tangled, lips and breath and hunger. Gratitude, relief, and laughter breathed and tasted. But those ever-seeing eyes rushed from the shadows and he was wrenched from her, engulfed in a giant fist of fire._

 _There were only glances and whispers in passing then, an ache where the easy smiles had been. A touch when they thought no one could see. And each time the storm calmed, thrill and desire rose swiftly again._

 _The moon was riding high. She was running her hands through his hair and he took her wrist and they moved through an alleyway, drunk with their secret, where columns of vines hung from the walls. Her back at the cold brick, his hands hot on her hips, and those vines wrapped around them until there was nothing but sparks and skin and sweat and promises._

 _Promises…_

 _Emptiness. A void where his touch had been. No more secrets, no more glances. He was slipping through her fingers. Too many chances, caught too many times, and now those all-seeing eyes would make sure they were never together again. She reached for him, but he didn't reach back, amber eyes dull and dead._

 _He didn't reach back…_

Katara woke to the pattering of rain at the window and a thick blanket of grey pressing down from the sky. It darkened what remained of the late afternoon light and she could see that it wouldn't be long before the city succumbed to nightfall. She had slept through most of the morning and afternoon, the night spent in waiting and the breaking of her heart rendering her exhausted. But it had been a restless sleep, peppered with haunting dreams, memories, flickering dead-ends and longing like a candle in the wind. She woke now to the discontent of life in her skin. Woke to festering bitterness.

She groaned into her pillow and rolled out of bed, smoothing the wrinkles from her tunic and pausing to assess herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked sad and her hair was disheveled. She ran a comb languidly through her unruly brown locks. What would her friends say when they saw her?

What would Aang say?

Things had been cordial enough since the war's end, she had to credit him there. But it had never been the same between them. The day she and Zuko had risen together to take down Azula, something had clicked into place, like the fitting of a final puzzle piece. She had held Zuko as he'd lain charred and blistered, sprawled in agony, the wound pitted so much deeper than the raw, bubbling flesh at the surface. He was dying in her arms. And she had healed him. And with the fusing of his flesh beneath her touch, so fused their souls, bound together, moon and sun as one.

And Aang knew. It was there on his face, in the wilt of his shoulders and the shallow, strained sigh when he saw them again. It was impossible to miss it. Tangible, this energy between them like a lightning storm on a summer night. He knew. He knew he could never compete with what they had now.

Well. What they had _then_.

Her blood pulsed sour and she dropped the comb on her dresser and opened the door. From the hallway she could hear the hum of voices rising up from the great room below. She walked toward the loft, keeping to the shadows, and peered down. Aang and Toph sat atop a plush mat, Suki opposite them on either side of a long, squat table, bowls of steaming rice and meat set before them. The conversation was light and even the guards, who stood at the grand entrance, wore easy smiles and chimed in the banter.

The house – mansion was more like it, big enough for each of them to claim their own floor – was nestled just outside the palace walls, a gift to the new Fire Lord's closest friends and advisors after the war. Risk of any trouble so close to the palace was minimal, and it showed in the guards' casual manner. It wasn't unusual to catch them with Sokka in the middle of a game of Pai Sho.

"Hey, I was just coming to check on you."

Speak of the devil. She turned to see her brother sauntering up behind her from the other end of the hall.

"You must be hungry. Chef Lu really outdid himself this time. Smoked fish, poached platypus-duck eggs, the most delicate sticky rice you'll ever…" Sokka's goofy smile faded as he took in her appearance, her slack expression. "Oh," he breathed out, his shoulders drooping.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she said before he could say anything, as she turned and made her way down the staircase. Sokka followed closely behind.

"Wait. You're not even gonna tell me what he said to make you look like this? Do you need me to beat him up? He may be Fire Lord, but I'm pretty sure being part of his war council reserves me the right to kick his royal behind."

The staircase curled out from the loft above to the great room in a grand arch. It spit them out right into the center of the common area and the open layout of the mansion made it impossible to slink toward the kitchen without being seen. The moment she set foot in the room, her eyes met with Aang's in an unintended glance and she looked away quickly.

"Hey, Katara," Toph piped impishly. "Lucky you showed up. Suki and I were just about to flip a coin to see who gets your share of the food." The girl scarfed down another bite of rice and fish but then stopped, mid-chew, and tilted her head. "Is it just me," she mumbled through a mouthful of food, "or have you been run over by a herd of elk-hippos?"

"Not now, Toph," came Sokka's voice as Katara ignored them and passed through an archway into the dining room, stopping once she was out of sight at the door to the kitchen. She could feel her brother's eyes on her as they stood silent for a long moment. A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder finally and when he spoke this time, his voice was soft, concerned. "Hey…"

She spun around so suddenly that he stumbled back. "Did you tell anyone?"

"What?" he blinked as he caught his footing. "Of course not. Why–?"

"Because Zuko thought he was being followed."

Sokka's eyebrows arched high, his hands held palms-up as if to say, _And?_ "Whoever it was, they didn't hear it from me. You have to know that."

Katara sighed dejectedly. "I know. Sorry, it's been a long night. Day. Whatever it is." She turned and pushed through the door and was instantly met with the aroma of – what would have been, on any other occasion – a mouthwatering meal. Two plates of still steaming food sat untouched on the counter, artfully presented. But right now, the idea of eating made her stomach clench.

She would need the energy, she told herself. She hadn't eaten since yesterday. She picked up a pair of chopsticks beside the plate and pushed the food around before finally taking a small bite. Her jaw moved but she wasn't sure if she was really chewing. It felt unnatural, like she had forgotten how. In the corner of her eye, Sokka ignored his food and placed a hand on the counter, leaning on it and studying her.

"You know I'm here if you need to talk. Or cry. I have two perfectly good crying shoulders right here." He puffed up his chest and jutted his thumbs toward them with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

She paused and managed some semblance of a smile. "Thanks, Sokka. But I'm fine. Really." She placed the chopsticks back on her barely-touched plate and walked back through the door. With a breath she steeled her jaw as she passed her friends, avoiding eye contact in hopes they wouldn't talk to her, and returned to the solace of her room.

Katara bided her time alone after that – well meaning friends, and brothers, sent away – until night had long since descended and the city had hushed to a quiet sleep. A cold fluttering was working its way into her stomach as she shrugged on her hooded cloak, gazing out the rain-streaked window, the roads glossy and smooth in the flickering lamplight. It was a dangerous plan. If she were caught, she would be thrown into a highly secured waterbending prison for the rest of her life. And that was if she were lucky. But desperation and vengeance chased away any voice of caution and when she was sure most of the house was in bed, she tiptoed down the hall and peeked from the loft to the foyer below.

The two guards sat engaged in a game of cards, relaxed smiles conveying their lighthearted banter. They could be flecks of dirt on the wall for all they actually did here. Pride of the Fire Lord's sentry, she thought with a wry snort. It wouldn't be hard to slip out unnoticed. There was a window in the library at the other end of the house, the one she'd used on many such nights in her rendezvous with Zuko. The shrubbery was high enough to conceal her escape and far enough from the perimeter guards. A piece of cake.

As she slinked back into the shadows of the hallway, she turned and gasped, her hands flying up to clasp over her mouth. She had nearly collided face to face with Aang and he stood before her now, a sharp raise of an eyebrow, the narrowing of his eyes. She hadn't heard him behind her, his steps so nimble and quiet.

"What are you doing?" He tried to sound light but there was a hint of wariness. "In case you haven't noticed, it's the middle of the night."

"I could ask you the same question," she said, crossing her arms in an attempt to downplay her reaction.

"Are you going somewhere?" he continued, his narrowed eyes searching, probing. "In a rainstorm?"

There was a hot churning in her stomach and she fought back the scowl that burned behind what she hoped was a casual expression. "In case you haven't noticed," she mimicked him, "rain doesn't really bother me. But if you must know, I was just going to get some fresh air. I didn't think I'd need your permission." She moved past him toward the other end of the hall and down the opposite stairway that led to the library and grand sitting area. She didn't look back and fervently prayed that he wouldn't follow her.

When she reached the bottom, Katara waited for several moments in the nook between the stairs and the wall. Eventually she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when it appeared she was alone again. Hopefully Aang had given up. She removed her hood briefly to pull on her mask. Only her eyes would be exposed now. She crept to the window, sheathed in curtain to the right of the plush sofa, quietly slid it open, and crawled through.

.::. .::. .::.

Water dripped from her hood in a small stream. Rain fell relentlessly in fat drops, her cloak a clammy weight against her skin. It would have been easy enough to bend the water around her but it was a trivial thing to waste energy on. The moon had begun a new cycle tonight. If her powers peaked during a full moon, they were weakest during the new moon. She would need every ounce of strength she possessed for this to go the way she planned.

Katara snaked to avoid lighted areas as the face of Capital City Prison emerged from the murky darkness. The maximum security prison tower – reserved only for the most dangerous criminals – was built into the side of the volcanic crater that was home to the nation's capital. It was well fortified and heavily guarded. The Prison Tower guards were rigorously trained and underwent grueling tests, both physical and mental. The few who made it out of training wore an honorary pin on their lapel, signifying their strength and dedication. Against these super-humans, as they were sometimes called, the prison was virtually impenetrable.

Unless you happened to be a bloodbender.

From the winding walkway that led to the prison's entrance, Katara could see the silhouettes of two guards at the gate, one on either side, postures rigid and watchful. She kept her back to the precipice as she crept closer up the path. Almost there. The closer she could get, the better control she would have.

Finally, Katara stopped and gulped a breath, extending her arms, fingers splayed out. She pressed back the quiet voice of shame that scraped at the surface of her consciousness and tightened her shoulders. There was no turning back. She exhaled slowly and concentrated, feeling the flutter beneath her fingertips, the first guard's blood pumping through his body. The water of life in his veins. Slowly her fingers curled in toward her palm, a slight twist of her wrist, and the pulse was slowing. Slowing, slowing, the thrum of his heart tiring beneath her power. It was as invigorating as it was terrifying, having this kind of power over another person. But Katara didn't let her thoughts linger there long.

The guard shook his head, swaying, and it wasn't long before he crumpled to the ground like a discarded ragdoll, unconscious, his heart beating just enough to keep him alive. From a distance she could see the other guard tense and recoil at his partner's collapse before rushing to his side. He never made it though. He suddenly froze in mid-stride and buckled down on his knees, leaning on a hand for support. And a moment later, he joined his comrade in a heap on the ground.

Katara waited a moment, watching. When no other guards came running to their aid, she proceeded in the shadows to the gate. Kneeling, she searched the belt of one of the passed out guards until her fingers found the cold ring of keys. They unhooked with a chinkling and, after glancing over her shoulder and trying a few keys in the lock, the gate clicked open. She readied herself and she slipped inside.

The gate groaned closed behind her, resonating against the cold stone corridor. By the time the four guards turned, two of them were already thrown up against the wall, their feet dangling above the floor, their mouths forming a silent scream. The other two charged toward her and Katara shot her arm forward, palm up. They froze, suspended in mid-stride, eyes wide in horror. She held them there, sweating beading on her brow. Her arms were burning, trembling. One had been effortless, even two like child's play. But four very powerful men at once. The rapid, frightened beat of their pulses fought fiercely against her power.

Oh, gods… She couldn't hold them.

She clenched her teeth against her draining energy. She couldn't fail. Images flashed before her of shackles, dry, thirsty prison cells, Sokka's hurt, scorned face. There was no way she could face her brother, her friends, again if she were caught. Failure wasn't an option.

Slowly – agonizingly slowly – the flow of blood became sludge under her shaking grip. One by one, their eyes rolled back and when Katara was sure they were unconscious, she released her hold with a sharp puff of breath. The first two men slid down the wall like limp noodles to a pile on the floor, the other two slumped contorted in the center of the corridor. She double checked that there was just enough pulse to keep them from death and then shook her arms out, the pain slowly fading away.

For several moments, Katara stood there, listening intently. Her strength was sapped. She prayed to the spirits that there were no other soldiers in the immediate vicinity. The occasional plink of a water droplet was the only sound that came, echoing in the silence. Torch sconces flickered against the algae-mottled walls, casting a gloomy light along the dirty floor at her feet. She exhaled a ragged breath as she crept along the wall, clammy and cold, to the corridor that branched into a T at the end.

The cell she was looking for was down the corridor to the left, situated at the end of another short walkway from there. She had managed a peek at the prison map in Zuko's office and had done her best to memorize it. Still, the way the hallways split and snaked out from each other was disorienting. She only had one chance to do this right. She prayed her memory would serve her.

She turned left and slinked along the wall, hardly daring a breath in the echoing space, and darted down the walkway she hoped was the one. A heavy wooden door towered before and she glanced over her shoulder before trying a key in the lock. It didn't turn. She tried another one. Still nothing. She tried another and another, her hand starting to tremble. What if the key wasn't on this ring? She assumed all the guards would carry a master key to unlock all cells – wasn't that how it worked? – but she was second-guessing her knowledge now.

With each wrong key, her stomach tightened more. Her hands were growing slippery with cold sweat. Fumbling, she placed the last key on the ring into the latch and held her breath. There was a click as it turned and Katara released a silent breath. She pulled on the heavy door, surprised at the weight of it, and cringed when it groaned softly in the echoing silence. Quickly, she slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind her.

"Something tells me you aren't here to replace the guard."

A silky voice cut through the stale air like a sharpened blade. Her breath caught in her chest and Katara turned slowly to find a pair of amber eyes watching her from behind the caged door of the cell. Ozai sat on the grimy stone floor, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. There was not a hint of surprise in his cool, sneering expression.

"And what brought you to that conclusion?" she said in a half-mocking tone.

A corner of his mouth turned up a degree as he studied her. "It was fairly obvious by the fifth key you tried in the lock."

Katara shoved the key ring inside her cloak pocket and glared at Ozai. "No one ever told me the fallen Fire Lord had a sense of humor. But sorry to say I'm not here to tell jokes."

"What a pity. Then why are you here?"

Katara pulled the mask down off her face and steeled her jaw as his gaze wandered over her features before returning to her eyes.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance. I'm sure I would remember if I had." His eyes smoldered and Katara tensed under their heat. Her hands clenched briefly at her sides.

"I'm sure you would, but not in the way that you'd like. My name is Katara. You don't know me but I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm the waterbender that took down your psycho daughter."

There was a flash of something dark in his eyes. "Ah. Yes. I'll admit I was impressed when I heard. In a fair fight, very few would have bested Azula. And she wasn't exactly known for fighting fair." Ozai stared at her for a moment before continuing. "So. Now the infamous waterbender stands before me in my lowly prison cell. To what do I owe this honor?" he scoffed. "Come to finish the job?"

"Maybe. But not today." She took a firm stride toward the cage door and sat down on her heels, leveling a hard gaze on him. "I have an offer I doubt you'll want to refuse."

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 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading and those who have reviewed so far! It means so much to me :)**


	3. In the Steady Stars

**A/N:** Hey guys! I apologize profusely for the egregious delay in updating this story. How rude, right?! My life has been crazy in both super awesome and super very un-awesome ways, so writing kinda fell by the wayside for a bit. But I'm back now. I can't promise anything but I'll try to update more frequently. Thank you SO much for reading - you're why I do this! Please leave me a review if you feel so inclined - it's my writerly crack :) Love and fire flakes for all!

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"An offer for me? How intriguing." Ozai's voice was silvery as he sat, arms crossed, leaning back against the far wall. The lonely torch sconce flickered and caught in his amber irises, setting them ablaze. They burned as he studied her.

"It's about Zuko. He and I were–" Katara's hands tightened around the cold iron of the cage. "He chose that… hollow, lifeless woman. After everything we had together, everything he promised me. He said he's doing it for the Fire Nation," she scoffed. She met Ozai's indifferent expression with a flinty gaze from where she kneeled on the grimy stone floor. "I think he needs a little persuasion to see where he's gone wrong."

There was a short pause and then a sharp laugh cut through the silence between them. It came so unexpected Katara flinched a little. "My son, having an affair with a Water Tribe peasant. How utterly unsurprising. Pathetic."

"Says the dethroned tyrant rotting in this filthy cell, with no more purpose now than a children's history lesson. How does it feel to know you were defeated by a twelve-year-old boy? To know that your name will forever be synonymous with failure?" Her sour expression gave way to a glint of pride. "A Princess of the Southern Water Tribe and master waterbender, on the other hand, can hardly be called a peasant."

His eyes darkened and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "A swine dressed in pearls is still a swine."

"Agree to disagree," she shrugged, too casually. Katara let a corner of her mouth turn up as her eyes fixed boldly on his. She had the upper hand now. "Back to the reason I'm here. You're Zuko's father. You must be a living, breathing arsenal of dirty secrets that could ruin him if they got out. Or at the very least, I know you'd jump at the chance to plant lies in the name of discrediting him. Truth or lie, it doesn't matter to me. I just need him to see why he made a mistake not choosing me. His reputation comes under fire, the ground under his feet gets a little shaky, and all the while I'm standing by him, supporting him and dispelling the rumors like cool water on a burn. He'll see where he went wrong in leaving me and come running back."

"Hmm… A tempting offer indeed, extorting my worthless son from inside the very prison he locked me in. But why come to me? Why not make up the rumors yourself?"

Katara smiled a little. "You're a manipulator. The best of the best. Or the worst, depending on how you look at it."

"I prefer to think of myself as an outcome engineer. But what I'm not is a philanthropist. What exactly do I get out of helping you?"

"You get to not die," she said dangerously, raising up on her knees as her hands gripped the bars.

He laughed again and her stomach boiled. "I'm sentenced to rot in this cell for the rest of my life. Death would be a welcomed reprieve. You'll have to try harder than that."

"Fine," she scowled, grudgingly sitting back again. "What is it you want?"

Ozai leaned his head back against the wall and studied her through narrowed eyes. His expression was droll, almost amused. "I'm curious. How are you planning to get back in here time and again for our little intrigues? The guards will not be so easily dispatched the second time around. They'll be ready for you and you'll be caught like a fish in a net."

"If that's what you think, then you have no idea who you're up against."

"I see," he lulled, the smirk on his face growing wider. "Then what do you plan to do when your precious Fire Lord gets word of the assault? I don't have to guess at the brutish methods a waterbender must have used to cut through the Prison Tower guards with such ease."

Her eyes went wide. How hadn't she thought of that? Even if the guards hadn't known what hit them, when the news reached Zuko she was sure it would be obvious to him what had happened. Bloodbending. Who else in the capital city would be capable of such force over six powerful soldiers? Stupid! She had gotten so wrapped up in her jealousy and the sweet taste of justice that she hadn't gone in with a clear head.

"Having held the position of Fire Lord, however, I happen to know that there's a tunnel that leads from the crypts below the prison to a burrow on the city's western border. Pilfer a guard's uniform on your way out and you should be able to come and go fairly easily with a little caution."

Katara blinked. She hadn't expected that. The plan was so simple it was almost too easy. Why was he suddenly so eager to offer a solution? Something inside her nagged a warning but she stamped it out. What choice did she have? She realized as her clammy palms twisted against the bar that she no longer had the upper hand.

"You still haven't told me what it is you want. Why so eager to help all of a sudden?"

"My terms will be revealed when it is of most benefit to me."

"No!" she snapped. "Everything on the table now or there's no deal."

Ozai cocked his head and raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It seems to me you're in a poor position for bargaining. You have my offer, waterbender. Take it or leave it. I, unlike you, have nothing to lose."

They sat locked in an intense stare. Katara's upper lip quivered at the way he settled back against the wall with exaggerated casualness and a smug expression. He raised a deliberate eyebrow, as though he knew what her answer would be. The only answer it could be. She hated to admit it, but Ozai was right. He had nothing to lose. She on the other hand… She had everything to lose no matter how she looked at it. But if she didn't take a risk to win Zuko back this way, she would spend the rest of her life wondering, _what if_? And that simply wasn't an option.

"All right," she said finally. Her shoulders fell a degree in resignation but her cold glower didn't waver.

"Bear in mind you're delving into some dark territory. Things you may wish never to know. I won't disclose which is truth and which is false, that is unimportant for our objective. I doubt it will be pleasant for you, but if this is to work I won't sugarcoat things to make them easier for you to digest."

"And I'm not asking you to. Don't worry about me. I'm a lot tougher than I look. Nothing could change the feelings I have for him, I'm certain."

"Very well," he nodded, and a faint sneer perched upon his lips. "Let's begin."

.::. .::. .::.

Katara's foot sloshed through a stale puddle, splattering beads of murky water against the narrow tunnel walls. It was so dark she could only just make out a foot or two ahead of her. She repositioned the awkward bundle in her arms and tried to focus on not tripping. She definitely didn't want to drop the guard uniform in the slimy liquid that collected in pools at her feet. The sour stench made it difficult to breath and she tried not to think about it.

It wasn't hard, really. She had plenty else to think about.

Her mind was in a fog as she tried to process everything that had just happened. She had been prepared to receive the information as she'd said, but in the end it had still hit her like a punch to the gut. Ozai had laughed at the way the color drained from her face, but Katara stood by what she said. This wouldn't change the way she felt about Zuko. Everyone did things they weren't proud of. Everyone made mistakes. Besides, it might not even be true. She'd cling to that. Once she had Zuko back, she could forget all of it. It was a small price for winning back her beloved.

After a very long walk, made longer by the suffocating putrescence, she reached the end of the tunnel. A rusty old ladder stretched up to what looked like a hatch at the very top. Katara hoisted the bundle of clothes in one arm and began ascending the ladder with the other. It took her a moment fumbling with the latch at the top before the tiny circular door opened and a fresh breeze rushed at her face. Katara sucked it in hungrily, pulling down her mask as she drank in the cool evening air, and looked around to get her bearings.

The tunnel ended onto a quiet forested hill overlooking the capital. The top of the hatch was covered in a layer of grass; one would probably have to know it was there to even see it when it was closed. Katara wriggled her way out and stood up. The storm had given way to a peaceful hush, deepened by the slumber of night. A soft wind slipped through the leaves and joined the chorus of crickets and peepers. A scant few lights still winked off in the distance, but most of the city would be fast asleep at this time of night. It would be several hours yet till dawn. She should be able to fit in a few hours of sleep before then.

She'd gotten so good at sneaking in and out that doing so was almost an unconscious act, like breathing or blinking. She slipped smoothly and soundlessly back through the window and slinked through the halls into her room as she'd done a hundred times before. Once the door ticked shut behind her, Katara let out the breath she had been holding and felt her body relax. She stuffed the bundle of guard's clothes under her bed out of sight. And finally, succumbing to her exhaustion, she dropped onto the mass of unmade sheets and blankets, the plush mattress hugging the edges of her body as she sank into a deep sleep.

.::. .::. .::.

Like a rash wearing through her days, Katara's heart had become peppered with black voids. She had felt Zuko's distance from her like a cold wind against her skin. And the chill of it had permeated deep, soured her soul. Days of waking to the discontent of life in her skin had left her nearly numb and broken. Crushed.

But this morning was different. This morning she woke wildly wanting to live. It was in her veins trembling, in the hard pant of her lungs, in the steady stars, how much she wanted to really live. Zuko was going to be hers again. It was only a matter of when.

A rush of wind shivered the treetops from where Katara stood on the plateau, making the breath catch in her throat. Her wild brown hair whipped around her face as she watched the messenger hawk shrink to a speck in the distance. A tightness hung around her throat now, like the strong grip of a hand, and she couldn't tell whether it was trepidation or excitement. Maybe it was both.

She had actually done it. And there was no going back now. All she could do was wait patiently for the news to filter its way to Zuko's ears. It wouldn't take long. Gossip travelled fast in Caldera City. She should know, she thought with a grimace as images pulsed through her mind of palace guards and her naked body, dewy and glistening in the moonlight, being wrenched from Zuko's, the shame flushing red over his creamy skin.

Katara pressed back the deluge of feelings that bubbled to the surface as she meandered her way home through the market district. The sweet scent of freshly baked goods hung in the air and made her mouth water. She ended up returning to the house with a basketful of fresh fruits and sweetened fried dough. A little gift couldn't hurt, she thought. She had left the house early that morning and hoped she hadn't drawn suspicion. The market was to be her alibi but either way, when she returned bearing delicious foods for breakfast, her friends would be too distracted with her offering to care.

At the entrance, the guards nodded a greeting and held the door open for her as she passed through. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the grand two-story foyer, gleaming off the polished marble tiles. Katara had to squint her eyes at the brightness until she reached the bamboo floors of the kitchen. She paused before entering the room, forming a light smile on her face, and took a deep breath.

"I come bearing gifts," she announced to no one in particular as she rounded the corner to the kitchen and dining area. Aang was leaning against the counter holding a bowl of cold leftover rice. He hadn't bothered to put a shirt on yet and Momo was perched on his bare shoulder, batting at the chopsticks as Aang brought a lump of rice to his mouth. Other than the two of them, the house was quiet. She had forgotten how early it was yet.

"You're up early," Aang said, hardly bothering to look up at her as he plucked up another bite.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd stop by the market this morning and pick up some of Mimi's goodies for breakfast. She makes the best fried dough."

"Hmm," he mumbled through a mouthful of rice. Katara watched him move the fluffy white grains around his bowl and studied him as he looked down again. He had grown a lot in the year since the war ended. He was a good head taller than she was now and his shoulders were broad and strong. The muscles in his chest and arms were more pronounced, even as he leaned casually against the counter. There was a budding man now where the boy had been not long ago. But he had grown up in more ways than one. There was a subtle hardness about him now, a cynicism or world-weariness that comes with life and war and the scars both leave behind.

Katara couldn't help but notice his intense interest in the bowl of breakfast he held. He had scarcely looked at her since she arrived. She chewed her lip and looked down at the floor. The silence felt awkward so she moved to set down the basket of goods on the counter when he finally spoke again.

"Out late the last two nights. Out early this morning. You sure have been busy," He flashed a tight smile but his tone carried a note of contempt.

Katara blinked rapidly, surprised at both the barb and the way her heart leapt into her throat for a beat. Was that suspicion she heard in his voice? He couldn't possibly know…

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in a show of offense. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just an observation," he shrugged, too casually. "Awfully defensive today."

It definitely sounded like suspicion. Maybe she was reading into things. She tried to ignore the way her pulse was speeding up and kept her cool. She needed to shift the conversation.

"You know, Aang, I'm really not in the mood for games today," she said, waving him off before turning to him again. "I just thought I'd do something nice for everyone this morning, okay? Sheesh, a simple thank you would have sufficed."

"Did I hear someone say there's Mimi's for breakfast?" Sokka peeked around the corner, one side of his hair still matted up straight where he had slept on it. His eyes were still soft with sleep and made his goofy grin look that much goofier.

"Yep." Katara gestured toward the basket but he had already pushed past her and was on it. "Fried dough and plenty of fruit – mangoes, dragon fruit, pineap–"

"Stop," Sokka said, shoving his palm in her face. Then his fingers curled into a fist as he pressed it to his mouth and said weakly, as though holding back tears, "You had me at fried dough." He reached into the basket and shoved a giant hunk of pastry into his mouth, moaning in delight while grabbing onto the counter as though he might sink to the floor.

"Ugh, you're disgusting," Katara grimaced and shoved him playfully. "And, _you're welcome_. Geez, doesn't anyone say thank you anymore?"

"I wush gedding to it," he burbled through a mouthful.

"Hey, goober, aren't you gonna save some for your fiancée?" Suki rounded the corner and smacked the back of his head lightly.

"All is fair in love and war," he turned to her with mock solemnity. A crumb fell from his mouth as he spoke. "When it comes to food, no man is bound by the rules of fair play."

Katara shook her head with a smirk and shared a look with Suki. "Don't worry, I brought plenty for everyone. And that was after I factored in Sokka eating for two."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy."

Suki grabbed the basket before he could protest and retrieved a few of the fried treats, swerving away as Sokka lunged to reclaim it. "Well, I'm gonna set aside a couple for Toph, just in case," she said and flashed him a keen look.

Katara smiled and let out a silent breath. Her eyes slid to Aang who was still leaning on his place at the counter, but there was an easy expression on his face now as he watched his friends bicker. The hardness that had been there before had evaporated. She thanked the spirits for Sokka's timely entrance. She wasn't sure what was up with Aang. Could he still hold a grudge about the way things had turned out between them? It seemed so long ago, she thought they'd moved past that already. Whatever the reason, she would have to be more careful in her comings and goings from now on.

.::. .::. .::.

The afternoon stretched on lazily as a blanket of dark, heavy clouds swelled over the city. The rain fell in fat drops that ticked heavily against the windows. Three games of cards, two games of pai sho, and way too many balls of fried dough, and the rain was still falling steady with no end in sight. Silence and snoring had taken the place of conversation and the friends now lay strewn about the Great Room like dirty laundry. Sokka and Suki half-dozing on the wingback sofa, Toph on the floor with her arm draped over her face, drooling, and Aang sitting cross-legged in the oversized chair in the corner. Katara watched him from her plush cushion on the other side of the room, her hands clasped in her lap. He stared endlessly out the rain-streaked window with a flat expression.

"I thought Zuko woulda been here by now," Sokka said through a yawn. His voice was jarring in the languid silence, an intrusion. "He mention anything about postponing the meeting, Aang?"

"Not that I've heard," Aang replied, still gazing out the window. "I doubt he'd want to postpone anyway with the rebels gaining traction the way they are."

Sokka grimaced and shook his head. "How could anyone seriously want that annhilistic tyrant back on the throne? Where are all these supporters coming from? It's like more crawl out of the woodwork every week."

"My guess is they needed time to rally and grow their ranks. Now that they finally have, they're finding their voice. Courage in numbers. They're getting bolder, rasher. More dangerous."

"Hmph. Zuko's got the right idea about snuffing them out before they become a real threat."

"Yeah well…" Aang finally turned. "Hopefully it's not too late." His eyes settled a beat too long on Katara before fixing on Sokka.

"Appreciate your vote of confidence, Avatar. I really do."

There was a sound at the door and when it opened, Zuko stepped through accompanied by two servants holding a large oblong umbrella with two poles on either end. Once inside Zuko brushed the escaped raindrops from his robe as the servants folded up the umbrella. He thanked them and they bowed deeply before taking their places on either side of the foyer, straight postures, alert eyes seemingly fixed on nothing.

"Sorry I'm late," he grumbled as he entered the Great Room. "Something important came up."

"Everything okay?"

Zuko's mouth opened but he hesitated. Without warning, his gaze landed fixedly on Katara. But there was something off about the way he looked at her. It sucked the breath from her lungs and left a pit in her stomach. "I'll fill you in during the meeting. Let me just get a bite to eat while you two get ready to leave." He paused and then cleared his throat slightly. "Katara, can you help me in the kitchen?"

Katara blinked with a slight intake of breath. "Oh, uh…" Her eyes flitted around the room, taking in her friends' quizzical expressions. "Yeah, sure." As nonchalantly as possible, she rose from her cushion and followed him through the archway and into the kitchen. Once separated from the others Zuko closed his eyes, his brows gathering in a brooding frown, as he rubbed his forehead. Katara waited, tense as a coiled wire, for what he was going to say. He sighed heavily and looked at his feet as he leaned up against the counter. When his eyes finally found hers, there was a dark edge to them. He studied her with unusually flinty eyes, searching, probing, for what was becoming an uncomfortable length of time.

"I was briefed today on a strange and rather alarming incident that happened last night," he said at last. "It appears someone broke into Capital City Prison and somehow managed to overpower all of the immediate guards. Each one claims that a masked intruder used some kind of magic on them, that they were all paralyzed simultaneously and then suffered heart attacks and blacked out."

Katara's blood was pumping a little faster. So that's what this was about, she thought. Did he suspect her? Probably, as she knew he would. It was a stupid error.

She willed her heart to slow and let a cool wave of calm wash over her. "That is strange," she said, putting on a perfect show of concern.

"Uh huh," he muttered coolly, crossing his arms. "Even stranger is that other than one of the guards' key rings, nothing else was out of place. Nothing stolen, no prisoners broken out." Zuko stepped away from the counter and paced slowly around to her other side, arms crossed. "You wouldn't happen to… know anything about this, would you?" He stopped directly in front of her and cocked his head, his amber eyes cutting deep.

"Can't say that I do," she replied in a husky voice, letting her unyielding gaze penetrate right back.

Zuko chewed his lip for a moment and then finally nodded. "Right. Of course. Just had to ask, you know?"

He was about to turn away when she said, "What business could I possibly have in the prison, Zuko? Have you considered that this might be the rebels' doing?"

"You think any one of the rebels has enough power to do something like this? Singlehandedly?"

"Who's to say what kind of power some of them possess? Maybe they were trying to get to Ozai, break him out."

"There was no sign of an attempt to break into my father's cell. And if they'd wanted to do that, I'm sure they would have with the keys they stole."

"Maybe it was a test of sorts. Maybe they're planning to strike again."

A muscle worked in his jaw. His gaze never veered away as he shifted from one foot to another. "You're right. I guess I should arm the prison with extra guards as a precaution."

Her hands twitched, begging to squeeze into fists, but she forced herself calm. Stupid. She had just made her life a whole lot harder. If she'd just kept her mouth shut…

"That's probably a good idea," Katara nodded. Zuko blinked hard, still studying her. His gaze flitted to her lips and back to her eyes in a breath, making her heart skip. A corner of his mouth turned up in a wry half-smile, but his eyes betrayed him. "Well, I should let you get to your meeting." She flashed him a soft smile as she turned toward the door. As she took her leave, Aang was stepping through the archway and she had to turn sideways to squeeze past him.

Aang watched her go and then walked through the door to where Zuko was still standing, a resolute frown on his face.

"What was that about?" the boy asked, raising a puzzled eyebrow.

Zuko sighed heavily and shook his head. "There was a break-in last night at the Prison Tower. A bunch of guards were completely taken out."

"The Prison Tower Guards?" Aang blinked, eyes widening. "But… how?"

"To be honest, it looked like bloodbending. In the heat of it, all I could think of was the only bloodbender I know. But…" Zuko stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe and sighed, shoulders slumped. "Maybe I was out of line for questioning her like that. I mean, I should know better than to think Katara would do something like this, right?"

Aang's eyes skimmed the floor before fixing on Zuko again. "Actually… There's something I was gonna bring up to you today. Katara's been acting a little, I don't know, strange lately. And I hate to incriminate her further, but… I did see her leave the house late last night, alone."

Zuko's brows gathered low and his eyes flared dark. "What?"

"In fact, she's been coming and going a lot the last couple days. Just a weird coincidence, you know? I'm not saying she had anything to do with it. But, she was kinda sneaking around and just wasn't acting like herself."

Zuko turned his eyes down and nodded, his jaw hard. Could Katara really be responsible? And if so, what possible motive could she have? Sure, things had been tense since he was forced to break it off between them, but this was so out of character for her, and besides what interest could she possibly have in the prison? His stomach churned. Something didn't feel right.

"Look, Aang, I hate to even ask it, but I want you to keep an eye on Katara for me. You see anything suspicious at all, you tell me immediately. I pray we're just being overcautious and that she had nothing to do with it, but... we can't afford the risk of clearing her just because she's Katara."

Aang nodded grimly. "Already on it."

.::. .::. .::.

Legend had it that there were four towers at the ends of the world that held up the cosmos and sustained the Avatar line. Ozai knew that it wasn't true. Of course it couldn't be true. He'd been there. It was actually two towers.

At least one good thing had come of that Avatar whelp bending his energy into him. It had been a searing pain, an all-encompassing agony, his body and mind pumped with the boy's white-hot energy battling against his own. In those moments, he had been flooded with the boy's consciousness and centuries of immeasurable thoughts, memories, knowledge of the Avatars that had come before him. It had been overwhelming, excruciating. And incredibly providential.

He had been there at those towers. Maybe not physically, but spiritually. And there was a part of him now, however small, that was forever linked with the cosmos and the Avatar spirit and the innate knowledge of the ends of the world and how to get there. It was almost like the universe had wanted this to happen, as though it had been his destiny all along. To destroy the Avatar line and take his rightful place as supreme ruler of the world. His world. The Phoenix King would rise again. The boy may have taken his firebending, but in the end Ozai would take far, far more from him. And it would hurt, oh he'd be sure of that. Things were falling into place now. It would hardly be easy, that he knew.

But it might be easier with a certain waterbender.


	4. The Honorable Fire Lord

**A/N: Hey there, everybody! Remember me? *crickets chirping* Oh yeah... you probably don't since it's been, like, a gazillion years since this story was updated. Contrary to popular belief, I am still alive! Took a break from writing for a bit when life got crazy but now I'm back :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! Love to all.**

* * *

Zuko took a sip of his morning tea and glanced out the window of his office. Normally he enjoyed green tea upon waking but today he woke feeling peppy and a bit adventurous with the golden rays of the spring sun smiling through the window of his bed chamber. For reasons unknown, his thoughts had gone to his Uncle and how grateful Zuko was to have had someone who loved him guide him through his years of pain and uncertainty. He shuddered to think of where or who he might be if it hadn't been for Iroh. So today, in his honor, he had decided on jasmine.

Wisps of faintly floral steam wafted up from the cup as Zuko sifted through the documents on his desk, signing papers, stamping his seal, approving or denying various requests. He took a deep breath and exhaled with a smile, leaning back in his chair. He was making good progress and was set to finish early so he thought he might take a walk on this beautiful morning. As he bent over the next document, a knock came at the door.

"Come in," he said, not bothering to look up.

"Hey," came Sokka's voice. "You got a minute?"

There was a hint of… something in his tone. Nervousness? Zuko looked up then. Sokka was smiling, but it was the weak, forced smile of someone ill at ease. Zuko put down his pen and sat back, his brows knitting slightly.

"Uh, yeah, what's up?"

Sokka opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, and shifted on his feet. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. "I don't suppose you've been out yet this morning, or read today's paper, have you?"

That was an odd question. "No… Why?"

"Uh…" Sokka's shaky voice trailed off for a minute. "I'd tell you to sit down, but, well… you're already sitting, so…" He cleared his throat and hesitated before finally pulling a mass of thick rolled up paper from his pocket. "Here."

Sokka placed the morning newspaper on his desk in front of him. Zuko's stomach wrenched up in knots. On the front page in huge bold letters was written, _WILD PARTIES, DRUGS, VANDALISM, SEX – THE HONORABLE FIRE LORD WITH A DISHONORABLE PAST?_

For a moment, his mouth worked but he couldn't get the words to form. He could only stare at the page in disbelief. "What?" His voice was tight, strained, barely a whisper.

"It's all over town this morning," Sokka said quietly. "The whole city's talking about it."

The sunlight that, moments before, had shone cheerful and pleasant was suddenly harsh and jarring. Mocking him with its sanguinity. Zuko leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, and rested his head in hands. "How… Where did this come from?"

"An anonymous letter sent to the news outlets early this morning, they said. It's gotta be the rebel forces trying to discredit you, weaken your image. Might even have something to do with the prison break-in the other night too. It would make sense."

Zuko blinked and looked up then. Sokka was right, it would make sense. Maybe he had jumped too far in implicating Katara. Had the growing strain on their relationship clouded his judgment?

There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke again. "Zuko… You know I love you, man. But I gotta know. Is this true?"

Zuko closed his eyes. "Yes," he croaked out finally. "I wish it weren't. It was the year I was banished, right before my mom went missing. Things were deteriorating at home – my father was becoming increasingly hostile toward me and things were tense between my parents. Azula, of course, only served as a catalyst. I wasn't in a good place. Some of the other dignitaries' kids – the kind who look perfect and proper up front – were into some pretty dark and crazy stuff behind the scenes. I got caught up in the wrong crowd and did a lot of things I regret."

Sokka sighed and stared down at the floor.

"I should have known better. The Prince of the Fire Nation… But at the time, I needed an outlet and I just… didn't care."

There was a long stretch of silence. Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable length of time. "Alright," Sokka began finally. "Here's what I think. Most mature adults are going to be forgiving of this. You just make a public statement saying you were young and stupid then, but now you're older and wiser, and people change, yada yada, and this will hopefully blow over. I mean, who hasn't done stupid stuff as a kid, right? Besides, it's not like you were the only politician's kid doing this stuff. They're guilty too–"

"It doesn't matter, though. They're not the Fire Lord. I am."

Sokka's shoulders dropped with a sigh. He knew he was right. "Look, what's done is done. What we need to do now is get together with Aang, Toph, and Katara and work on crafting that speech you're going to have to give, like, today, and prioritize destroying the resistance before they do any more damage."

"You're right. Thanks, Sokka. You're a good friend."

" _And_ you don't know what you'd do without me, I'm the best… I know," he smiled. "We'll get you out of this, buddy."

.::. .::. .::.

Aang shook his head in disbelief as he passed the newspaper to Toph. "Who would spread lies about you like this? And why?"

Zuko visibly tensed, as though in pain, and then hung his head. "It's not a lie. I wish it were."

Aang, Toph, and Katara exchanged concerned glances. "You never told us any of this," Katara said, unable to hide the sorrow in her voice.

"Uh, yeah, I was hoping I'd never have to tell anyone and leave it buried in my polluted past." He sighed then and continued with more control. "It's probably the rebels. Trying to weaken my image, threaten my rule."

"Right. But then that begs the question how anyone would know this about you if you've never spoken about it," Aang said. "Other than the kids you did those things with, many who are now politicians themselves – would they have a reason to do this to you?"

"Not unless they were siding with the rebels," Sokka cut in. "Something we may want to look into."

Toph uncrossed her arms and shifted on her feet. "What about Azula? Any way she could have anything to do with this?"

"I've been to the asylum," Zuko answered. "Azula's kept on such tight lockdown I doubt she'd be anywhere near pen and paper, or have access to messenger hawks. Not to say anything of her mental capacity anymore to carry something like that out. Still, one thing I've learned is never to underestimate my sister. We'll keep that on the backburner."

"What about Ozai, your father?" Sokka chimed in. "You gotta admit, the timing is weird with the prison tower break-in."

"It had crossed my mind. My father would jump at the chance to ruin me, and if the rebels had found a way to be in contact with him, now would be the perfect time for him to do it with the uprising gaining steam. Still… I've been assured there have been no further break-ins and I doubt he'd be able to do much more damage with the guards on alert."

"Unless they have a mole," Toph suggested. "Someone posing as a guard but working with the resistance."

They all looked at each other. And then Aang glanced at Katara. She felt her throat constrict for an instant but quickly calmed herself, forcing her heart rate steady. She had to make absolute certain she sent off no red flags to Toph. She met Aang's gaze, unflinching, until finally he looked away with a frown.

Sokka put a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "We'll help you write that speech, Zuko. We won't let you do this alone."

"And then we're gonna _crush_ those rebel scum into the dirt like the little parasites they are and wipe them from existence," Toph exclaimed, punching her fist into her palm. "Whoever did this won't get away with it. That's a promise, Sparky."

.::. .::. .::.

Zuko walked his friends back to their house where they had agreed to start working on the speech. As the others were walking through the door into the house, Zuko pulled Aang aside.

"Hey, Aang. Can I talk to you real quick?"

"Yeah sure, Zuko. What is it?"

"I was thinking. Maybe we were a little too hasty laying the blame on Katara for the prison break-in."

Aang's brows furrowed. "Are you serious? You know how she's been acting lately."

"I know," Zuko admitted, holding a hand up. "But we have no proof it was her. And with the rebels growing more powerful and this anonymous letter meant to damage my reputation, it just makes more sense that it's connected to all that. Don't you think?"

"Then, what, you just think it's a big coincidence that Katara sneaked out in the middle of the night right before the break-in was discovered?" he scoffed.

"I think it could be. I know Katara's been taking our whole forced break-up thing pretty hard. She hasn't quite been herself. She doesn't understand how hard it's been for me too."

Zuko's face flushed and he swallowed as a look passed across Aang's face. There had been some level of underlying, unresolved tension between them ever since Aang's own relationship had fizzled with Katara. It had only been a week later that Katara and Zuko had been found on the beach together at dusk, kissing. There was nothing much Aang could say about it then, but Zuko knew how it had looked after such short a time. There had been undeniable chemistry between Zuko and Katara ever since he'd helped her confront her mother's killer. He knew in some part Aang blamed him for the dissolving of their relationship. He realized now that this was the first it had really been brought up between them.

Aang put his hands in his pockets and frowned at the floor. Zuko's shoulders sagged and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, Aang, I know you might think Katara and I –"

"It's done, Zuko." Aang's eyes squeezed shut as he cut him short. "Let's just forget it." Zuko sighed as he glanced at his feet, unsure of what to say. After an awkward silence, Aang opened the door and stepped halfway through. "Give her the benefit of the doubt if you want. But I won't let her off that easy. I'm keeping an eye on her until I figure out what she's up to."

.::. .::. .::.

The candles in his bed chamber flickered as Zuko's servants worked to get his room ready for the evening. Zuko held his arms out at his sides as his servants helped him undress and change into his robe. He always felt awkward allowing them to change his clothes, draw his bath, see him in the nude. He doubted he could ever get used to it. But he tolerated it for a couple reasons. First, those servants would be out of a job and he would want a better reason than that to take away someone's livelihood. Second, if word got out that Fire Lord Zuko changed his own clothes, drew his own baths, turned down his own bed sheets, it would tarnish his image and that was the last thing he needed right now.

His servant finished tying the sash on his robe and Zuko nodded his thanks. He was about to make his way to his bath when a knock came at the door. The servant went to open it and in its place stood Katara. She hesitated before timidly stepping through. Zuko blinked, his eyebrows raised.

"Katara. What are you doing here?" He suddenly remembered that he was standing in only his robe and flushed slightly. There was an awkward silence as his servants exchanged glances and then scurried out of his chamber a little too quickly, shutting the door quietly. She had a lot of nerve coming here alone. At least the servants knew better than to tell the council on their Fire Lord, but if they gossiped and word got out…

"I just wanted to check on you after today's ordeal. Are you doing okay?"

Zuko sighed. "I'm okay. Humiliated. But okay."

"Hey," she said, as she stepped toward him. "We all have done things we regret. There's no one alive who doesn't have a dark secret they want to hide from the world. It doesn't define you. None of us see you any differently. We – I… still care about you, Zuko. I hope you know I'll always stand by you, no matter what."

Katara was before him now. Gingerly she reached her hand out for his. Her fingertips had just grazed his skin as he pulled back gently.

"I'm sorry, Katara. You know I can't do this." He took another step back and leveled what he hoped was a stern expression. "You shouldn't even be here."

"I know, but I had to see you." She glanced around the room. "No one else is here. I could stay for a little while, no one would know." She took a step forward. Zuko didn't step back.

They were inches apart, their eyes locked deeply. He wanted her to stay. Oh, how he wanted her to. But if he thought he had trouble now, he didn't want to imagine how it would magnify if she stayed and they were caught. Again. Zuko reached his hand out and allowed it to skim tenderly down her arm. Katara shivered and stepped into him, her chest pressed against his.

"I wish I could, Katara," he breathed, brushing a hair back around her ear. "But I can't. You need to go now." He couldn't hide the ache on his face as he turned from her.

"But… Zuko –"

"Please. Just go." He didn't turn around. "Goodnight, Katara."

.::. .::. .::.

Katara tightened the belt around the waist of her prison guard uniform. The chest plate was a little loose around her, the tunic and pants a little slack, but all in all she looked pretty convincing. She examined her appearance in the mirror a moment longer before pulling the helmet over her head, making sure to tuck in any visible wavy brown hairs. Her mocha skin was still visible where the helmet left it exposed from her cheekbones to chin, but it would have to do.

Her brows drew together, her lips pressing into a line as she slipped her cloak over the uniform. It hadn't worked. She had been so hopeful that Zuko would melt into her arms again and finally renounce Mai for her. Granted, it was just the first attempt, and her Zuko was still _there_ , she could feel it. He had wanted her to stay. He wanted to be with her. It would just take a little more coaxing, that was all.

One last glance in the mirror and she snuffed out the candle that flickered on her bureau and walked toward the door. She cracked it open and waited, listening. It was well past midnight and Katara was sure her friends would have withdrawn to their own rooms by now, but she had to be extra careful now. When she was sure no one was about, she tiptoed down the hall and descended the staircase to the library. With one last glance over her shoulder, she pushed open the window and slipped through, closing it behind her.

The night air was heavy and damp, the humidity a lead weight against the oxygen in her lungs. Knowing Aang and Zuko – especially Aang – were watching her closely now, Katara was careful to pay much closer attention to her surroundings as she went. Walking briskly, risking an occasional glance behind her, she took the side roads out of the city. At the edge of the city, she had to rejoin the main road briefly before reaching the path that led up the hill toward the secret hatch and the underground tunnel system. As she turned onto the main road, a pair of guards she hadn't noticed appeared from the shadows, strolling toward her. Katara cursed inwardly and pulled her hood down farther, keeping as much distance as she could. She held her breath as she passed them and thought she had avoided their attention when one of them stopped and turned to her.

"A bit late to be out for a stroll, isn't it?" His voice was droll but there was the vaguest hint of suspicion laced within.

"Erm, insomnia," she choked out, trying to camouflage her voice. She made a point not to slow down or let them glimpse her face. One look at her helmet and they would know something wasn't right. "Night air. Helps me sleep." She needed to lose them, fast.

"Ah, my sympathies, citizen. I'm an insomniac myself, and I know how–"

With the slightest flick of her wrist, the guard inexplicably slipped and fell, hitting his knee hard on the pavement. He moaned in pain as the other guard jumped to his aid, forgetting all about her. Katara walked faster and didn't dare look over her shoulder as she scurried onto the nearly hidden path up the grassy hill.

The hill was long and steep and the humid air made the trek more difficult than it should have been. When she finally reached the top, she stopped and looked down over the city. The few lights that winked sleepily in the distance glowed fuzzy in the thick haze. There was no sign of followers and Katara sighed, finally relaxing her shoulders, reminding herself to look more closely for guards next time.

It was difficult to locate the hatch in the dark, as hidden as it was with grass growing over it. But after some searching she found it and reached into her pocket for the key ring she'd kept from the guard. Metal scraped on metal as she guided the key to the keyhole, half-blinded in the darkness, and then it slid in. The hatch unlocked with a click and she hoisted it open, sending a low groan reverberating into the tunnels below.

Katara took a deep breath and climbed down the clammy iron ladder, securing the hatch after her. At once the last wisps of fresh air were extinguished and the pungent stench of the tunnels made her breath catch in her throat. Forcing herself to breathe through her mouth, she did her best to ignore the reek of mystery slime at her feet and slinked through the labyrinthine tunnels. Periodically, she had to stop to check the map she'd swiped from Zuko's office wherever the tunnels split off in different directions, and she was starting to wonder if she'd made a wrong turn when she finally came upon the iron door that led into the prison. She pulled out the key ring and unlocked the bolt as quietly as she could, but the click still echoed off the walls of the tunnel and she cringed, waiting. When no guard came bursting through the door to investigate, she opened the heavy door just enough to slip through and bolted it shut behind her. She stopped, hardly daring to breathe, listening. When she was sure no one had heard, she slipped off her cloak and stuffed it into the corner by the door.

This side of the prison contained no cells, only a hallway that led from the center of the prison to the tunnels, so there were no guards in immediate view. Katara let out a pent-up breath and then smoothed out her uniform, straightened her posture and squared her shoulders, and turned the corner at the end of the hall, walking casually and confidently into the main prison area. She passed two guards patrolling the main corridor. One ignored her but the other looked up, locking eyes with for a beat too long. Her throat tightened as she walked past and she could still feel his eyes burning into her. But thankfully he said nothing and she turned the next corner down the long hallway that led to Ozai's cell.

She put the key in the lock and opened the door just enough to slip through.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon," came his velvety voice. "Miss me already?"

She scowled and ignored him, stepping to the edge of the bars that contained him and crossed her arms. "There's a small problem. Aang and Zuko suspect something. They're watching me like a hawk. If this is going to work, I'll need an alibi. A convincing one."

"Yes." Ozai leaned back where he sat against the wall, taking a breath and crossing his arms. "Tell me, how _is_ your romantic life these days?"

Katara cocked an eyebrow and blinked hard. "Uh, what? How about, none of your business…"

"From the sounds of it, rather lifeless I'd say. Which is quite a shame. Such beauty going to waste."

The way his amber eyes skimmed her body made her heart lurch. "If there's a point to this, I'd like to get to it now," she snapped.

"Your new boyfriend, Matsu – a handsome young rebel, though you can leave that part out – will meet you by the pond outside the city, by the abandoned house at midnight tomorrow. You two have been meeting in secret so as to avoid unwanted scrutiny and publicity until your relationship grows more serious. Or so your alibi will go. And since you are being watched, our correspondence henceforth will be sent through Matsu. Does this satisfy the lady?"

Honestly, was this man capable of saying anything without sarcasm or disdain? Katara swallowed what she wanted to say and simply nodded with a frown.

"Since you're here, we can work on the next installments of Zuko's humiliation. Any more after this will be sent to you through Matsu. Speaking of which, has word made its way to our dear Fire Lord yet?"

"Yes," she said, casting her eyes down. "It didn't work the way I'd hoped. But I think it will. He was almost there."

"Then perhaps a little more persuasion will do the trick."

"That's the plan."

Ozai studied her for a moment and a smirk formed on his lips. "It's rather amusing – you working alongside the rebels, who are trying to dismantle your Fire Lord, in an attempt to win him back to you. For all intents and purposes, one might say you _are_ one of the rebels."

Katara scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it? Then please tell me how what you're doing isn't also helping _their_ cause. How are you any different from them?"

Katara took in a small breath, her brows drawing up. She'd never thought of it that way. _No._ No, what she was doing wasn't the same. The end objective was completely different. Maybe… maybe the methods were similar, but she was definitely not…

"I know what you're thinking," he lulled as she stared hard at the cold stone floor. "Your intent is not the same, so you can't be compared to them." He gave a soft, low chuckle. "Tell me – if intention is the only distinction separating you from them, then I'm afraid, my dear, you _are_ them. You are no different. It all looks the same from the outside."

"Shut up!" she bit out. "Shut up before I call off our whole agreement! Then you will get _nothing_ from me but a cold vicious laugh as you rot away in this filthy cell."

"Dangerous words for someone in such an easily compromised position as yourself. You don't think that in one instant I could expose you for what you're doing? A traitor to the Fire Lord. Is that how you want to be known?"

"You'd have no proof…" Katara hesitated, grasping for something, anything. "No one would believe you."

"You've planted all the evidence I'd need yourself. The prison tower, the sneaking out, odd behavior. It wouldn't take much convincing. And speaking of blackmail, how do you think I plan to get correspondence to you through Matsu from inside this prison?"

Katara blinked, eyes widening. "One of your guards…"

"He's had affairs with several dignitaries' wives. I knew about it when I was Fire Lord. Amazing what people are willing to do to keep a secret from getting out, isn't it?" He fixed a meaningful stare on her and she glared back.

"So that's what we're doing now? Blackmail me if I don't do what you want?"

"You can call it blackmail. Or you can call it a mutually beneficial relationship." He tilted his head and smirked harder. "I do hope Zuko comes around soon. I'm getting a little restless. Soon time to fulfill your end of the deal."

Ozai winked as Katara glowered, her brow quivering. It was her own fault. She left too many loopholes, made too many mistakes. The worst of which was getting involved with a skilled manipulator.

"Give me the worst you have on Zuko. Don't hold back." she said through gritted teeth. "Let's get this over with."


	5. Voice of Treason

**A/N: Thanks to all you lovely readers and those who take the extra time to review (psst, you're my favorites *wink*). I had to split the chapter I was working on into two, so fingers crossed there will be another chapter posted soon. Hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

Zuko paced, wringing his hands. His long black and red robes billowed behind him. The sky was turning pink now and he took a quick glance at the clock, his stomach churning. He shut his eyes in concentration and muttered the words he'd been rehearsing over and over under his breath. He and his friends had worked into the night on the speech, carefully and painstakingly choosing just the right words and phrasing. The words he was set to speak this morning would soon go global and they had to be perfect.

Most of the morning was a blur. Before he knew it, he was in the palanquin on his way to the town hall where a mass of people would be waiting to hear what he had to say for himself. His stomach was a jumble of knots.

He arrived and was escorted into the building. Two of his bodyguards ascended the platform first, followed by Aang, Sokka, Toph, and then Katara. They took their places behind the podium where Zuko would stand, clasping their hands in front of them in the proper political way. Then Zuko ascended with Mai at his side, with two last bodyguards at the end.

As Zuko passed his friends, he locked eyes briefly with Katara before taking his place at the stand. Mai stood just behind him to his right.

Aang stepped forward and placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "You can do this, Zuko," he said, squeezing. "We'll be right behind you."

Zuko swallowed hard and stepped up to the podium. A hush quickly fell over the room as a large crowd of faces, made up of both citizens and journalists, anxiously awaited what he had to say. He cleared his throat and began.

"I come to you today to address an ugly chapter in my personal history. And I come to you today to offer up my sincerest apology for the things I did during that time. It is important to me that everyone who may feel shocked and hurt know that the sorrow and shame I feel is genuine." He took a deep breath, struggling to untie the knots in his stomach as he continued. "I will not insult anyone by offering excuses for my past behavior. It is inexcusable, and I would humbly ask for your forgiveness. And I believe that to be forgiven, more than sorrow is required. Genuine repentance must be present, a determination to change and to strive to be a better version of oneself each and every day. I believe I have proven myself in this regard. I learned many things, and gained a lot of wisdom and perspective during my years away that has helped to shape me into the man I am today. And I hope to never stop learning, to always keep an open mind and a tolerant heart. I have not taken the same tyrannical, warmongering, ethnocentric path of my forefathers. Instead I have made a promise to the world to foster a new era of peace and unity. And rest assured, that's a promise I will keep until my last breath. Thank you."

There was the slightest breath of silence and then the crowd erupted in a barrage of questions, both from citizens and the press. Zuko tried to swallow the lump in his throat, steeling himself for the scrutiny that was to follow. He held up his hand and waited until the clamor died down, then nodded to a journalist in the front.

"Fire Lord Zuko, any idea who might be behind the anonymous letter? Do you intend to seek them out and take action against them?"

"I can't comment on that at this time. But I will say we have a few leads we're looking into." He nodded to a citizen in the middle row. "Next question."

"Thank you, Fire Lord," the man bowed slightly. "The letter implied that you engaged in these activities with the children of other diplomats. As citizens of this nation, I feel we deserve to know their names, if any of them are holding jurisdiction over us now." A murmuring of agreement swelled throughout the room and it was a moment before it was quiet enough for Zuko to answer.

"I understand your concerns. But I don't feel it's my place to expose any of these individuals for the unfortunate actions of their youth. This hearing is only to address my own guilt in the matter. Next." Zuko nodded to another journalist near the front.

"Fire Lord Zuko, you admit these allegations are true. Is it also true then that you _were_ aware of the heinous things Princess Azula did during the war when you returned, and that you protected her from getting caught?"

Zuko blinked hard and shook his head. "I- I'm sorry… What?"

The journalist glanced at the notes in her hand. "That she raped, tortured, and molested prisoners. Sold orphaned children into slavery. These are the allegations in the second anonymous letter received this morning. Are these accusations also true?"

A cold sweat broke along his brow and he thought he might be sick. Zuko tried to breathe, his eyes darting across the swarm of faces in the room, staring intently as they awaited his answer. _No…_ This couldn't be happening.

"I –" his voice quavered and he tried to steady himself before continuing. "I can tell you with a clear conscience that these accusations are _entirely_ false. _If_ Princess Azula did any of those things, it was without my knowledge. Had I known, I would certainly –"

"How can we believe you?" a voice shouted from the back. It was a woman of about thirty, stepping through to the middle of the crowd. "You admitted to the first one. This anonymous tipper seems to know an awful lot about you."

"I admitted to it because I want to be honest with the people I govern. And I'm being honest now in denying these charges."

The woman turned to face the people around her. "Since when are politicians honest and trustworthy? Hm?" she called out, holding her arms out. A few cynical laughs sounded and a hum of voices rose up in agreement. "How can we be sure the Fire Lord didn't protect the Princess, much less _participate_ in these atrocities himself?"

Aang stepped to Zuko's side and whispered into his ear. "Something's not right. She's too bold, trying to fan the flames. Smells like a rebel pawn to me. We need to shut this down before it gets out of hand."

Zuko nodded and gestured to the guards in the back of the room. The crowd parted as two guards marched toward her and took her firmly on either side of her arms. As they escorted her toward the door, the woman continued, shouting now. "They can try to silence us. They can try to smother our voices. But the truth will not be silenced! 'Anonymous' is our ally! He will expose –"

Her words were muted as she was dragged out the door. The crowd was silent and Zuko gazed around the room, releasing a ragged breath.

"No more questions," he said quietly as he turned from the podium. Nevertheless, a couple more voices called after him as he was escorted to his palanquin but Zuko did not turn back and soon the crowd was dispersing in their separate directions. Zuko pitched slightly as the palanquin started and then he released a long breath, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

.::. .::. .::.

The tall, unruly grass was frosted in moonlight as Katara stood, waiting, in the shadows of the abandoned house. Aside from the occasional plink of water that dripped from the gaping hole in the roof, the night was completely quiet, removed from the white noise of the city. There was the dank scent of mildew as a breeze rustled the tattered drapes inside the broken window beside her. There were several broken windows actually, a few of which had been boarded up. Katara wondered what had happened to the people who used to live here. Why the house had been left to rot in this condition. It had been this way as long as most people could remember, and everyone you asked had a different answer. No one seemed to know.

She crossed one arm over her stomach to hold her other elbow, her uncertainty growing. It had to be past midnight now and she was starting to wonder if he was coming when a rustling sound came from behind her.

Katara turned to see a tall cloaked figure approaching her. Even though she knew who it would be – really, the only person it could be this far out of the city – her stomach still tightened, her mind summoning a hundred terrible scenarios in the beat of a heart. She gulped and took a step forward.

"Katara, I presume?" came a young man's voice. He pulled his hood off and finally she could see his face. Though his features were dimmed by the shadows, she could see he had attractive almond-shaped eyes, high cheek bones, and a strong jaw line. Her new boyfriend wasn't too shabby, she thought with a smirk.

"Yes, I'm Katara. Matsu is it?"

He nodded. "Fire Lord Ozai would like me to inform you that, going forward, the blackmail letters will be sent through me so as to remove you from further suspicion. Should you need to contact each other, you will meet with me and I will deliver the message on your behalves."

The first thing that struck her was that he still referred to Ozai as Fire Lord. The second thing was how he spoke every word as though he'd memorized them from a script. And the third was that any last semblance of control she had on the situation was just wrenched out of her grasp.

"Wait… So, that's it? I just suddenly have no say in any of this anymore? This was all _my_ idea, he can't just –"

"Hey, don't kill the messenger, alright?" he retorted, holding up his hands. "Fire Lord Ozai knows what he's doing."

Katara's lips formed a tight line. "Fine," she said through clenched teeth. They stood in silence for a moment. Matsu's posture relaxed slightly as he placed his hands in his pockets. Katara crossed her arms. "So… _boyfriend_. You have a girlfriend?"

He exhaled a laugh and glanced at his feet. "Only you."

"Really? I'm flattered," she simpered. Then after a pause, she continued more seriously, "So… I have to ask. What made you choose to join the rebellion? Do you really think putting Ozai back on the throne would be a good thing?"

Matsu stood up taller and broadened his shoulders. "We were a strong nation under Ozai. Powerful. Now Zuko wants to soften us, weaken us. Bring us down to the level of our enemies."

"They don't have to be your enemies. The four nations should live and work together in harmony. That's what Zuko sees. He wants to restore the ways of the old world, before the Fire Nation rose up against –"

"I know you're not a rebel sympathizer," he interrupted, his tone scathing. "I understand you side with Zuko and you're only here for one reason. So we can agree to disagree. But like it or not, our numbers are growing, and that shows that more and more people are coming to the same conclusion. The Fire Nation was at its most powerful under Ozai's rule, and Zuko's trying to snuff out our greatness. Zuko can only fight us for so long, but soon we'll be strong enough to overtake him and reinstate the rightful ruler of our superior nation."

Katara snorted and shook her head, her brows drawn low. "That's not gonna happen."

"We'll see," Matsu shrugged, too casually. His gaze lingered on her a beat too long and there was a dull pang of unease in her gut. He turned and started to leave, then looked over his shoulder. "See ya around," he winked and then walked away, leaving her standing in the shadows.

.::. .::. .::.

Zuko lied back on his bed. Mai reclined next to him, her head propped up on her hand. His eyes were closed as she played with his hair and gently massaged his scalp. Neither of them had spoken much since they had come to his room – they didn't have much to say – but Zuko found he relished the silence and Mai's cool, collected presence.

"I'm surprised your meeting with the ambassador is still on for this evening, considering everything." Her voice was unexpected and Zuko opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. He sighed.

"The ambassador has no reason not to come. The world still has business to attend to as we try to instate a new normal. And anyway, if I canceled it, it would only make things look worse. I have to carry on as normal. I can't let this bully think he's won anything."

"Hm," she nodded, raising a brow slightly. "Good point."

There was a soft knock at the door and then a servant entered, clasping his hands and bowing deeply. Zuko and Mai sat up, blushing slightly. "Forgive my intrusion, your Majesty, Lady Mai. Ambassador Chang has arrived."

Zuko and Mai were escorted through the palace to the grand dining hall, where the ambassador stood before the long, ornately set table joined by Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph. He was a man of about forty, Zuko guessed. His dark hair was peppered with greys and beginning to recede. He was of medium height but a somewhat stocky build, with a rounded gut that suggested a bit too much saké. The ambassador bowed regally as Zuko entered and Zuko nodded graciously.

"Ambassador Chang, it is our pleasure to have you here this evening as our honored guest. I hope you will enjoy your time with us, and I look forward to a fruitful meeting together."

"The pleasure is entirely mine, your majesty. Avatar," he bowed again toward Aang. "This has been a warm and hospitable welcome indeed."

Zuko and Mai took their places on either ends of the table and then finally everyone was seated. An elaborate six course meal was served, featuring some of the Fire Nation's rarest and finest delicacies. The ambassador seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself, and after the last course he sat back in his chair with a smile, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

"That was most excellent, your majesty. I can't say I've ever tried sea cucumber prepared that way before today. Delicious!"

"I'm very pleased to hear it, ambassador." Zuko placed his napkin upon the table and sat back. "Well… if everyone's had their fill, may I suggest we commence our meeting?"

The ambassador nodded and they all rose from the table. Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Mai exchanged a bow with their guest and went their separate ways. Then Zuko and Aang led the ambassador to the throne room to conduct their business. The conversation varied from the mundane to the more difficult issues, and much of it revolved around the rebel movement and how the four nations might work together to crush it before the new, fragile world peace was destroyed.

"If I may speak freely, Fire Lord… These allegations coming out against you… Please don't take my mention of it as judgment, as I admire your majesty for the way in which you addressed these very difficult and personal missteps of your youth. But in order to effectively eliminate this rebellion, we must act to find this perpetrator before he fans the flames irrevocably."

"I agree. Which is why I would like to get the Concord Assembly involved. If international council members from all four nations are working together, it would increase our chances."

"Very true. After all, you instituted this assembly for just such a purpose. I believe an appeal to them is our next step. I will stand alongside you all the way."

Zuko smiled, relief flooding over him. Maybe things were starting to look up. "Thank you, ambassador."

After the meeting, the ambassador followed Zuko and Aang to the grand foyer where Mai, Katara, Toph, and Sokka joined them to say their farewells. There were many pleasantries exchanged, a few gracious bows, and then the ambassador descended the stairway of the veranda out into the courtyard, toward where his servants and palanquin waited just beyond the gate.

A few steps into the courtyard, the ambassador paused. Zuko thought he might turn around to say one last thing. But he didn't speak, and he didn't turn around. Instead, with a quick, sharp groan he crumpled to the ground in a heap, and his servants erupted into an uproar, clawing at the gate.

Zuko gasped, frozen in shock. But Sokka dashed down the stairs to kneel by the ambassador, putting two fingers to his neck. Aang, Toph, and Katara ran after him. Zuko couldn't move. He felt Mai grab his arm and drag him behind their friends.

"Ambassador Chang!" Aang shouted. "Is he okay?"

There was a pause where no one dared to breathe. Sokka blinked and looked at them, eyes wide. "He's dead."

"No... No, NO!" Zuko panicked, wrenching his arm from Mai's grasp and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. "What do you mean he's dead?! He was just alive!"

"I don't know, but now he's dead! There's no pulse."

"Oh my gods… Oh my gods! What am I gonna do?" His head was swimming, the world was closing in. "Why couldn't he have waited to die till he was _outside_ the palace gates?"

Toph held a hand up. "Okay hold on, let's all just try to calm down –"

"This is going to destroy me on top of everything else! I'm finished. That's it. I'm done for. Oh my gods…"

"No, Zuko," Mai said calmly, placing a hand. "You're not. We'll get through this."

Zuko spun around and looked at the ambassador's limp body on the ground. "We need to hide the body."

"Hide the body?! Are you insane?" Aang exclaimed. "That makes it seem like we murdered him."

Mai rolled her eyes. "Zuko, we can't just hide the body. I'm pretty sure the Earth King would notice his ambassador is missing."

"Yeah, not to mention all the servants who just watched the guy drop dead," Katara added.

Everyone exchanged anxious glances as the servants continued to shout at the gate.

"Ugh… This is such a nightmare! … What am I gonna do?"

"The only thing we _can_ do is notify the police," Toph said. "Anything else is basically an admission of guilt."

Zuko sighed, throwing his head back. "You're right," he resigned, his shoulders sagging. "I'll send a messenger hawk out now."

Sleep eluded him that night. When it did come, it was restless and troubled. He woke the next morning achy, wilted, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. He picked around his plate at breakfast, the food like sawdust in his mouth. His thoughts were deep in a twisted reverie, his mind far away, so it wasn't until a hand came down on his shoulder that he heard voices calling his name.

"Zuko."

He blinked and looked around, as though wondering how he got there, and then became aware of Mai at his side, her hand on his shoulder, joined by two concerned looking servants.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Your servant came to get me, said you weren't responding to him."

Zuko nodded. "Sorry. I'm fine. Just tired."

"Okay… well, there are two investigators in the foyer asking to see you. They have a few questions about the ambassador's… passing."

Zuko felt like his stomach was trying to squeeze into his throat. He closed his eyes and released a short breath before rising and making his way to where the investigators were waiting. A black-haired man with a mustache, a stocky man with brown hair and mutton chops, and a tall slim man with graying hair and a sharp beaked nose all bowed deeply.

"Good morning, your majesty," said the mustached man. "We apologize for interrupting your morning like this, but you understand we have obligations…"

"Of course," he nodded, trying to put on an air of confidence.

Zuko showed the men where they had dined last night, the throne room where they had conducted their meeting, and the courtyard where the ambassador had been taking his leave when he'd collapsed. Their questions all seemed fairly routine until the slim, beaked nosed man asked, "Was there any animosity during the meeting? Any reason you might have quarreled with the ambassador?"

Zuko was taken aback by the question. "No. Why would there be?"

"The recent scandals, for one. Shame can make a different man of any of us."

He stared at the man through narrowed eyes, blinking. "What are you asking exactly?"

"Just if you might have had any reason to act out against the ambassador," mutton chops answered.

"What, you think I killed him?! That's absurd."

"Look, we're not saying that, we're simply doing our jobs, looking at all angles."

"Avatar Aang was with me the whole evening, he'll vouch for everything I'm saying. It was an uneventful meal followed by a cordial, productive meeting. And then as he was leaving he just… fell in the courtyard. Died instantly. Maybe he had an unknown heart problem or health issue."

"How about the food? The drinks? Who prepared and served them?" the mustached man asked.

Zuko shook his head and sighed, glancing at the floor. "Just the regular kitchen and serving staff."

"Anyone new?"

He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped and blinked. "We– Uh… Well, I think we brought on a new sous chef a couple weeks ago, but–"

"And this sous chef – you approved his employment?"

"Well, yes, but the Fire Lord has to approve all members of the palace staff."

The three men exchanged glances. "I think that's all for now. Thank you for your time, Fire Lord."

"Wait – that's it?"

"We'll let you know if we have any further questions." They bowed and then turned to leave.

Zuko's hands balled into burning hot fists. He wanted to order them to stay, to demand an explanation for their guarded tones and shifting glances at each other. He was the Fire Lord and they would leave when he allowed them to leave. But instead he just stood there, unable to speak, berating himself for his pathetic weakness, and watched as they filed through the grand doorway into the courtyard and were gone.

.::. .::. .::.

The next morning, Zuko must have risen at the normal time. His servants must have bathed him, changed him, and brought him his usual tea. He must have done all those things but he couldn't remember doing them. He couldn't remember what he had for breakfast. If he'd even eaten breakfast. It was mid-morning now and Zuko found himself suddenly in the war room surrounded by Aang, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Mai. Their voices were muddled, distant, a language he didn't understand. How did he get here? He must have walked, but it was as though his body was vacant, his spirit only stopping by to check in. He was numb, hollow–

"What do you think, Zuko?"

Zuko blinked slowly. "About what?"

The others looked at each other and then Toph looked at Zuko, cocking an eyebrow. "You okay, Sparky?"

"There's talk all over town about the ambassador dying at the palace the other night. There are rumors you even poisoned him. You need to have another town hall meeting pronto to squash this nonsense and set the record straight."

His gut roiled. It just couldn't get any worse. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. When he looked back up his face was languid. "Right. Should we do that now, then?"

There were shifting eyes and concerned glances. But the others must have agreed because the next thing he knew, Zuko was inside the palanquin on his way to the town hall. His body jostled easily with the movements as he sat, slumped over with his arms on his knees. Zuko had asked for the curtains to be drawn, part for privacy and part because he couldn't bear to make eye contact with anyone until he absolutely had to. He wasn't sure what he planned to say once he faced the people. What could he say, really, beyond _I know this looks bad but I didn't kill him, please believe me, this is just really bad timing –_

The sudden piercing shouts of a mass of voices wrenched him upright and Zuko didn't even have time to think before there was a jolt and the palanquin lurched hard to the side, throwing him off balance. Zuko held onto the seat and tried to pull the curtain aside when another jolt came, the shouts more deafening, his palanquin bearers shouting back. The palanquin pitched again, farther this time, teetering before it finally came crashing to the ground. Zuko was thrown from the palanquin, his head colliding with the pavement, a dull crack in the uproar. He struggled to his hands and knees, his vision blurry from the impact. Several hands were on him then, seizing fistfuls of clothes, dragging him. And suddenly he found himself in a sea of bodies, insults flying, hands clawing, fists punching, legs kicking. There was a sharp blow to his gut and the air was leeched from his lungs. Something trickled down the side of his face and he realized distantly that it must be blood. The world was still teetering from the impact, his eyes couldn't focus and Zuko thought he was going to vomit.

Suddenly there were several powerful bursts of fire and the mob parted, some fleeing the blasts, others charging in rage at what Zuko could now see were his bodyguards surrounding him. And rushing from the palanquin behind his own were Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka. Zuko was struggling to his feet when they grabbed hold of him, pulling him away from the mayhem, barking threats at any who dared to come closer.

Half dragging him, they fled the scene and were relieved when they were not pursued. The crowd was disbanding behind them, broken up by the bodyguards and police force that had arrived on scene. But they didn't stop running until they reached the palace gates. It must have been the sight of Zuko's condition and the urgency and shouting of those dragging him that made the palace guards' faces drain of color. The gate was opened hurriedly and slammed shut behind them and they barely made it through the courtyard and into the grand foyer before they collapsed in exhaustion.

As they tried to catch their breath, the friends exchanged shattered looks. No one said anything. What was there to say? The revolt was starting.


	6. Less Terrible

**A/N: Woo hoo! Two chapters in two days :) I hope you enjoy!**

 **Small disclaimer: this chapter contains some semi-explicit mature content so read at your discretion.**

* * *

Dinner that night was quiet and tense. A few bites were eaten, but mostly the food was picked at and moved around plates, the clicking of chopsticks against their dishes jarring in the thick uneasiness. Mostly eyes were downcast, staring at the lumps of rice and meat set before them, but Katara stole a glance at Zuko. The wound on the side of his head had been cleaned and tended to by healers, and the hair there was thick and shiny with herbal salve, but it still looked red and angry. Painful. He had dark circles blooming beneath his eyes and his expression was hollow, staring into nothingness. She looked back down at her plate, a pang of sorrow and guilt piercing her heart.

A moment later there was the grating of a chair against the floor and Katara looked up to see Zuko standing, turning away from the table. "Excuse me," he mumbled under his breath and walked out of the room. There were concerned glances and a moment of hesitation before Mai spoke up.

"I'll go to him," she said, placing her napkin on her plate. Her gaze settled a moment too long on Katara with just the subtlest curl of her lip, and Katara's jaw clenched as she fought back the burning glare behind her passive expression. There was a smug, spiteful sneer in Mai's eyes as she stood from the table and went after him. Katara's insides burned and her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she watched that woman go to comfort the man who should have been hers.

.::. .::. .::.

When Zuko entered his chamber, his servants were waiting, faithful as always, to tend to him. Though they were unquestioningly devoted and performed their duties with care, Zuko couldn't help but feel suffocated at times. He waved them off brusquely and they scattered, leaving him in peace.

Zuko closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath. And as he exhaled he brought his hands up and the candles that flickered in the sconces along the walls grew dim. His head was pounding, the wound there throbbing still. Gingerly he touched it and examined his fingers. It wasn't oozing anymore. That was something at least.

A soft knock came at his door. He rolled his eyes shut and his jaw tightened. Why couldn't he just be left alone? Zuko opened the door and didn't say anything when he saw Mai standing there. Instead he just turned and left the door open. Mai followed him into the large, regal chamber but he didn't turn around to face her. Neither of them said anything for what felt like a long time.

Finally, Mai came up behind him and placed gentle hands on his shoulders, massaging them. "I know things are terrible right now and it feels hopeless. But I also know one other thing. And that is that you are a fighter. You're tenacious and resilient, and you've always found your way out through adversity. With all you've been through and overcome, this won't be the end of you now. I won't let it. I'll fight with you and we will defeat this, and come out stronger for it."

Zuko turned his head toward her and she nuzzled her nose against his cheek with a gentle kiss that lingered and became another kiss at the corner of his mouth, more heat behind it. Zuko let himself melt into it, returning the kiss with his own.

"Don't forget who you are, Zuko." Her voice was husky, almost a whisper, as her lips moved against his ear. Her warm breath caused a bloom of goosebumps on his neck. "You are the Fire Lord, a force of strength the world can still only dream of contending with. Your quest for peace and change is admirable…" She wrapped her arms around his chest, her breasts pressing into his back. "But don't let it cloud your vision to the incredible power you possess. You may disagree with the way Ozai and Azulon conducted their rule. But they would not have hesitated to squash these angry peasants and stop this nonsense, the interrogations, the investigations. With one word, it would have all disappeared." She craned her neck farther over his shoulder to look into his eyes. Her expression was firm and unyielding. "You have the power to kill this now. To shut it all down, silence all the haters, and in doing so, leech a great deal of power from the rebels. To show them you are a dire force to be reckoned with."

Zuko studied her face, her adamant gaze, for a long moment and then looked away. A muscle worked in his jaw as he ruminated on her words. He wanted to interrupt any talk of the sort, refuse to do anything that might mirror the corruption of his predecessors. But his angry, desperate heart soaked up her words like water on dry earth and instead he found himself for the first time in a place of sick respect for his father, for his unflinching ability to do whatever needed to be done to defend his dominion. There was something to be said for that. He was disgusted with himself, and yet he couldn't bring himself to deny the truth of what Mai said.

"I know what you're thinking. You don't want to lower yourself to your father's level." She turned him fully around to face her now. The soft glow of a candle flickered from its place on the wall, casting half her face in shadow. Her golden eyes where the light caught glimmered like embers. "You are honorable, and a good man, Zuko, and that's why I love you. But even good men have to do bad things sometimes to breed a greater good."

Mai caressed the scarred side of his face and Zuko closed his eyes, lowering her hand and turning his face away. But she brought her other hand to his good side, turning him back to face her and this time he didn't turn away. She cupped his face, leaned in, and kissed him slowly. Zuko mindlessly parted his lips to deepen the kiss but didn't close his eyes. Katara was right of course. He didn't have the feelings for Mai that he did for her. Maybe he never would. Her kisses didn't make his insides burn or his breath hitch. But he did care for her. And in that moment, her lips were warm and soft, and her touch gentle and comforting. So he let himself relax into her as she raked her fingers through his hair.

"Just think about it," she said with a smirk, breaking away for just a moment before joining their lips again.

Her tongue slid along his bottom lip and he gave a throaty moan, all thought abandoned, putting his hands around her waist and pulling her firmly into him. He nibbled his way to her earlobe and she gasped, her breaths growing heavier, as his tongue skimmed the tender skin there. Her fingernails pressed into his neck and he couldn't help but smile at her reaction to him.

Zuko guided her to his bed, their lips never parting, clothes falling to the floor along the way. Mai pushed him down and crawled on top of him, straddling his waist and planting hot kisses along his bare chest. Zuko entwined his fingers in her hair, his eyes rolling back as her lips descended down to his navel, down farther still, her mouth so hot on the sensitive skin. And by morning, Zuko was reassured that their love, hollow as it was, could still be filled to the brim and replaced by pleasure.

They awoke entangled in satin sheets. Mai smiled softly as she stroked the line of his brow. "I was thinking," she said, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. "What if we move up the wedding?"

Zuko raised an eyebrow and propped his head up on his hand. "Why? I mean, uh, not that I don't want to–"

"Think about it. It would strengthen your rule, cement your authority on the throne with a wife to bear you an heir. Your power would be greater with a Fire Lady at your side. Two is always greater than one. And anyway, why wait? We're almost living like we're married now." She blushed and bit her lip.

A corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile and he looked away briefly. "How soon were you thinking?"

"What about next week?"

Zuko's eyes went wide and he nearly choked. He and Mai had been slated to marry late next year, and though he knew it was going to happen it had been distant enough that he hadn't had to think about it much. But now confronted with idea of doing it sooner rather than later, he felt unexpectedly nervous.

"It's all the time we'd need to make the preparations for a proper royal wedding without looking impulsive," she went on. "We wouldn't want to draw any suspicion as to our motives."

Zuko hesitated. Hesitation was bad when dealing with women, he knew, and his mind scrambled for words as her stare bore into him, suffocating him. He didn't feel ready for this but maybe he'd never feel ready until it was over. And ready or not, she did have a point. It could strength his reign and maybe in some way it could help alleviate the situation somehow.

"All right," he said, trying not to sound weak. "Let's do it."

Mai smiled and kissed him. "Should we announce the news over breakfast? I'm starving."

His stomach sunk like a lead weight. At breakfast. Katara would be there and he really didn't want see the look on her face when the word broke. But there was no way around it now. Mai got up and coaxed him out of bed, and once they were both dressed they arrived in the dining room where the others were already sitting, enjoying their food.

"Looks like they slept well," Sokka joked under his breath and Toph snickered.

Zuko and Mai sat at their places and a bowl of steaming rice and meat was placed before them. Mai plucked up a pile of sticky rice but didn't put it in her mouth right away. She looked at the others and Zuko braced himself for what was coming.

"Zuko and I have an announcement to make. We've moved up the wedding and are getting married next week."

All eyes went wide. Zuko forced what he hoped was a smile but his face felt tight and rigid.

"Wow…" Aang said, his eyes shifting between him and Mai. "Congratulations."

Unwillingly his eyes flicked to Katara and the pain etched on her face was like a physical blow. Their eyes lingered for too long, her expression pleading as tears welled up in her eyes, but she did her best to blink them away and glanced down at her plate.

"That's great news, guys," Sokka said, his tone too cheerful, strained. "We're all very happy for you."

"Elated," Toph added.

Katara didn't speak or look up again. When Zuko glanced back at Mai, he thought he saw the trace of a smug smile on her lips.

.::. .::. .::.

After that morning, none of them saw Zuko. It had been two days since then and he was refusing to let anyone near him, locking himself away in either his office or his chamber. Even Aang had been sent away several times. So when Zuko failed to appear once again at dinner that night, Katara knew she had to try again. Time was running out.

She stood now outside Zuko's office door. She took a shaky breath and tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she knocked quietly. She listened, and a moment later a voice from the other side mumbled something incoherent. Katara waited. Nothing. She knocked again and this time was surprised to hear the click of a lock turning. He was letting her in.

Katara hesitated a moment to calm the butterflies in her stomach, stood up a little straighter, and opened the door. She slipped through and it clicked shut quietly behind her. The room was dimly lit by the glow of flickering wall sconces that cast interweaving shadows throughout the grand office. Zuko sat at his desk, bent over a mess of papers and documents. His shoulders rose with shallow, strained breaths as he cradled his head in his hands, clenching fistfuls of hair. He didn't look up or acknowledge her entrance. She wasn't even sure he was aware she was standing there until he finally spoke in a slow, gritty voice.

"Every time I think it can't get any worse… I'm proven wrong all over again."

Katara's throat tightened as she tried to swallow. Despite all her planning and calculations, she hadn't fully been prepared for what it all might do to Zuko. The sight of him so agonized and shame-stricken was like a physical blow. She ignored the way her stomach roiled with guilt and reminded herself that pain was the chisel needed to sculpt out something beautiful.

Katara cleared her throat quietly. "Are you… okay?"

"I'm just fine, Katara," he grated. "Gods, how do you think I'm doing? Over the past few days I've been disgraced, humiliated, accused of covering up some horrible crimes, implicated in the death of a government official, and injured by an angry mob. It would be a nightmare for anyone. But as Fire Lord?" He scoffed. "There's talk of putting me on trial, of removing me from the throne and exiling me, assassination plots. Those are just the ones from today."

"Zuko…" She blinked, eyes widening. "I– "

"Look, I'm not really in the mood to talk right now. So…" He nodded toward the door before raking his fingers through his hair as he bent over his desk again.

Katara rubbed her hand up and down her arm, unsure of how to respond. This isn't at all how she had pictured things playing out between them. This would probably be her last chance to try to make him choose her; she had to go about it delicately. "Why are you pushing me away? Let me help you." She held an arm out as she took a small step toward him.

"How?! What can you possibly do?" His voice boomed and he stood up so fast the chair fell to the floor with a clamor. "About any of this?!" he said, waving a hand over the mess on his desk.

"I can be your friend, first of all." She kept her tone calm and soothing as she advanced toward him. "You're pushing everyone away and it's only hurting you more."

"I don't want to bring anyone else down with me. I can't have that on my head. It's best if you all just cut your ties to me." He crossed his arms and turned away, his shoulders sagging.

"That's not going to happen. Your friends won't stand by and watch you wrongfully accused of these things without doing something. Especially me."

He let out a scornful snort and spun back around to face her. "Come on, Katara. There's nothing you can do. Just for once, spare me the optimistic horseshit and be realistic."

The barb stung, but she pushed past it. "I _am_ being realistic! You need your friends more than ever now. Why can't you see that I'm here for you, Zuko? That I will alwaysbe here for you." She closed the distance between them then, placing her hands on both of his strong biceps. He kept his face turned away. "I'm sure I can help you survive this and put it behind us if you'd just stop pushing me away. My position within the Water Tribe and my reputation among the nations would help–"

"It's not that simple," he said in a gravelly voice. "I wish it were."

She let out a defeated breath, her eyes searching his face. His gaze was fixed on the polished floor, his brow hard and creased. But he didn't move away from her. She gave a gentle squeeze where her hands still hugged his upper arms and stepped into him.

Half a step was all it took to close the distance between them. She leaned into him slightly, and though his chest rose with a sharp breath and his eyes didn't meet hers, he didn't back away. Katara slowly, tentatively, brushed her nose against his cheek. Zuko's lips parted and he tilted his chin up toward her a degree then and she could feel a soft wisp of his breath. Cautiously then, she let her lips brush against his. Her heart shriveled as he simply stood there, lifeless. A stone cold statue.

But then his lips moved against hers, ever so slightly, and his hands came up to cup her face. Katara could scarcely contain the laugh of relief that caught in her throat. His lips were pressing on hers harder now, moving with more purpose. The taste of him again made her drunk and her breathing grew ragged, his breathing grew heavier, and he snaked his fingers into her hair and entwined them to hold her there. She threw her arms around his neck as they fell back hard against the bookshelves that lined the wall. It rattled on impact and several books tumbled to the floor in a flutter of pages. They hardly noticed. Zuko pinned her back against the bookshelves, his body hot and firm against hers and Katara threw her head back in a sharp exhale as he sucked the sensitive skin of her neck.

She reached for the buttons on his robes – unclasping one, two – and he ripped the tunic off her arms so fast it made her gasp. Katara made short work of his robes as they fell to the floor in a billow and Zuko quickly unraveled her bindings and threw them aside. He bent down and hungrily explored her breasts as Katara grabbed fistfuls of his hair, moaning. Then he grasped her hips, lifting her slightly, and Katara gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, drowning in another kiss, and then another.

Nipping her neck, Zuko hastily carried her to his bed and sank on top of her. The few clothes that remained became a heap on the floor and then there was only skin and sweat, pleasure and heat, and that intense closeness – no, intimacy – with Zuko that she had missed like clean air. They were the only two souls in the universe in that moment, and the lines separating them had blurred until even that failed to hold. They were one. Zuko was hers once again, she was certain. She could feel it.

Katara smiled, a single tear running down her temple, and arched into him. There was more urgency now, hands clawing skin, fists gripping sheets. Zuko half moaned, half growled into the crook of her neck and Katara's head was spinning with starts of ecstasy.

They slept wrapped in each others' arms that night. The chasm in her heart that had left her hollow was finally whole again and she couldn't ever remember feeling more at peace. Zuko had chosen her.

Katara woke in the morning with a smile, stretching lazily. Zuko had already risen and was donning his robe. "Hey," she said with an easy smile. "What's the rush? Come back to bed for a bit."

"I have things to attend to," he responded, not turning around. "A representative from the Concord Assembly is coming this morning to discuss the best way to deal with this rebellion before it gets worse."

"It'll all work out, Zuko, don't worry." Katara got up and shrugged on her tunic. She walked over to Zuko and stood before him, clasping his hands. "I'll be by your side through it all." Zuko let out a short sigh and squeezed his eyes closed. Katara studied him closely, a knot working into her stomach. Something was wrong. This wasn't how she'd imagined this morning would go.

"Katara… I care about you. So much. You know that." He hesitated, his mouth working. "But I _can't_ love you. Not anymore, not the way you want me to."

"But… last night. I thought–"

"I'm sorry about last night. It should never have happened. I let my guard down, I led you on." He looked away with a pained expression. "I'm sorry."

Katara's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She put a hand to his cheek, turning him to face her again. "Zuko, please. You know that what we have is something real, something so rare and special that many go their whole lives without finding it."

Zuko took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. "I know. I wish things could be different."

Katara studied his eyes for a moment, cupping a hand to his face, and then without thinking, pressed her lips to his. He was frozen for a moment and then his lips relaxed against hers. Their mouths moved together and a tear shed down her cheek.

"Please, don't throw this away for politics," she whispered against his lips, kissing him again. "You'll never be happy with Mai."

His lips stopped moving then and he broke away from her at once, his brows drawn low. "Who are you to tell me who I'd be happy with?"

"You know it's true, Zuko," she said with a pleading tone as he turned away from her, raking a hand through his hair. She turned after him, dread setting in. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" he bellowed, spinning around to face her. "Spirits, Katara. What _isn't_ wrong? I'm engaged, okay?! I've been engaged, and what we've been doing isn't right."

"That's never stopped you before."

"And I'm a shit stain on a shoe, got it! It should have stopped me. But it should have stopped you too. You know I'm getting married to Mai next week. I can't do this with you anymore. I won't. I won't do that to Mai." He stared at her harshly and the silence in that moment was thick, suffocating. "And then there's the fact that my entire world is crashing down around me, and you want to make this about us. About _you_." He shoved a finger toward her and then paced back and forth, stopping before her with clenched fists. "Using my disaster to your advantage. I can't believe how selfish you can be sometimes. My reputation, my claim to the throne, my country, my life, even world peace are hanging in the balance. And _this_ is what you're worried about." He scoffed with a shake of his head. "Makes me wonder if you didn't plant those rumors yourself."

Her mouth gaped and she blinked, scrambling for words. "How dare you… How dare you accuse me of… of something so despicable. Is that what you think of me?"

He sighed heavily then, his shoulders sagging. He turned his face to the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at her again. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know you would never…" He squeezed his eyes shut and turned from her. "Just… go, Katara. I'm sorry. But we're through for good. Just go."

.::. .::. .::.

The metal door groaned quietly shut as Katara slipped into Ozai's cell. She fell her to her knees in a huff, her head hanging, and gripped the bars that separated them. Her brows were drawn low over tightly closed eyes, quivering against the angry tears that threatened to burst forth.

"Going well, I take it?" came his silky voice.

Katara gritted her teeth at his mocking tone, her knuckles turning white where they grasped the bars. She wanted to scream. But instead she choked out, "It didn't work," her neck still bent toward the floor like a wilted flower. "He won't even see me anymore. And somehow it's only driven him closer to _her_." The words dripped off her tongue like venom. She couldn't bring herself to say her name. "They've moved up the wedding date. They're getting married next week."

She said nothing more. The shake of her head said it all, expressed her closed hands, her bruised, shaking fists. Ozai waited, his eyes burning the space between them, for her to find the words for those feelings that didn't fit neatly into the feeble margins of sentences. But her face only twisted in anguish and there were no more words, none that could express the gaping wound in her heart.

"I'm sorry for the way things have gone," his voice came at last, soft and velvety in the murky quiet. "Zuko doesn't deserve you. You're far too much woman for him."

Katara looked up at him finally, studying his face, his passive expression. She hadn't expected sympathy, certainly not from this man. She knew it should give her pause – he was probably just toying with her – but there was a part of her that craved the pity and validation. He probably knew that too. The realization shook her back to her senses and she glared at him with renewed clarity.

"Why do you care?" she snarled.

"I'm not completely heartless, much as that may surprise you… But you're right, I don't really." He flashed a cold smirk and leaned back against the wall. "Now as much as I've enjoyed our little pastime at Zuko's expense, I think it's time you fulfilled your end of our agreement."

"Uh, _no_. We're not finished with this yet. Zuko still won't have me and you promised you'd help me get him back."

"That ship has sailed. It's over. If he won't have you by now, girl, he won't have you. That's the hard truth you'll have to swallow. And if you recall, you agreed to carry out my terms whenever I chose to reveal them. Now is that time."

Her nostrils flared and she exhaled a sharp breath. "No. That's _not_ how this is going to work. I can't give up when there's still time–"

"Then, my dear, I regret to say our partnership has come to an end. Good luck in all your endeavors. I will so miss our intrigues together. I seldom get visitors so interesting these days."

Her jaw tightened and she scowled at him from where she knelt, folding her arms tightly across her chest. He had full control of the situation now. She felt suddenly as though she were the one in the cage. "What is it you want?" she snarled.

A sharp smile settled on his lips. "You're going to free me from this prison."

Katara let out a biting laugh. "Right. Cause if I didn't have enough to worry about, the jailbreak of an egomaniacal warmonger on my conscience is just what I need. Why not have one of your little rebel fan boys break you out? I bet they'd be foaming at the mouth for the opportunity."

"Where's the fun in that when none of them are nearly as attractive?"

Katara felt her face flush and she snorted, gritting her teeth. "No. How stupid do you think I am?"

Ozai cocked his head to the side with a smirk. "Let's see. Stupid enough to bloodbend the prison guards and spend your nights in secret meetings with the nation's most heavily guarded prisoner, all for the sake of committing veritable treason against the Fire Lord in order to get back in his bed." He paused to let his words sink in before continuing. "Like it or not, girl, you are bound by your word to agree to my terms. Failure to carry out your end will result in your complete and utter demise. It wouldn't take much for the truth to spread and expose you for the traitor you are. You've paved your own way, it would be far too easy."

Katara could only scowl harder and shake her head. Her eyes grew hot and moist as she stilled the tremble in her lip. "You disgust me," she grated out.

"Oh, now don't be a sore loser. You should have known you had no chance of besting me, even from inside this prison cell. I mastered the art long ago."

They sat, locked in an intense stare. Katara was ashamed and appalled at her own stupidity. "So… after I break you free, what then?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. You'll have to wait, I'm afraid. Now, the guards change shift at two o'clock in the morning, and there's a two-minute window where no guards will be in direct view of my cell. The process would be fairly easy if we're quick."

Katara looked away and chewed her lip. "How can I know you won't turn on me after? Or put a knife in my back?"

"I suppose my meager word will have to suffice. Do what I say and you will be unharmed." He folded his arms across his chest with cool confidence. "Now, it's your choice. What will it be? A simple jailbreak or personal annihilation?"

.::. .::. .::.

The choice was an easy one. As easy as deciding what type of poison to drink. When faced with two terrible options, you pick the less terrible of the two. Not that Ozai could be considered less-terrible in any scenario, by any stretch of the imagination. But when compared with Zuko finding out the horrible things she had done, the ways she had deliberately ruined him, all for her own selfish motives – that would be inescapably worse. Ozai could be caught and imprisoned again. He didn't have his bending, so that was something, she supposed. Freeing him couldn't possibly be as terrible or as damaging as everyone she loved learning the truth. Her guilt, the sickening, strangling guilt that she kept jamming back down into the dark abysmal corners of her heart – that would be her punishment. She didn't have the strength or the opportunity to process it now, and part of her was glad for that. She was dreading that first quiet moment after this storm when she would have no choice but to face it.

Katara stood at the doorway into the prison, the tunnel slime pooling at her feet. Dressed entirely in black, she was just an extension of the shadows, a trick of the eye or perhaps a phantom. The mask on her face left only her eyes visible, like two sapphires in a sea of velvet blackness. She pulled the pocket watch from her cloak – one minute till two o'clock – swallowed hard and took a deep breath, counting down in her head.

… _Three, two, one…_

The key scraped in the lock and she opened the door just enough to slink through, leaving it ajar for their escape. Though Ozai had assured her no guards would be in view, Katara's heart was pounding as she crept quietly and quickly as possible to Ozai's cell. She brought the key to the heavy iron door, her hand trembling. It slid into the lock but then slipped from her hand, the key ring falling to the floor with a clank. Katara cursed under her breath, risking a glance over her shoulder as she picked it up and this time fit the key into the lock and opened the door.

Inside, Ozai was standing behind the bars, waiting for her. There was a rolling feeling in her gut as they locked eyes and she took in his size. It occurred to her suddenly that during their visits she had only ever seen him sitting. She hadn't been prepared for how large he actually was; how much more intimidating he seemed now. Something stopped her. She felt like a mouse in a trap.

"What are you waiting for, waterbender?" he growled.

She blinked and tried to swallow, her throat thick. There was no going back now. She had to hurry or she would be ruined either way. Katara brought a second key to the lock and the door groaned open.

In two easy steps, he was before her and suddenly there was nothing standing between them. Nothing left to safeguard her from this man. This very dangerous man.

"Let's go." He brushed past her and pushed open the door just enough to look out and then gestured to her to follow. They crept to the end of the passageway and Ozai stopped, peering around the corner and then darted back again.

Katara blinked. "What is it?" she whispered.

Ozai put a hand up to silence her and then she could hear two voices around the corner down the other passage. Her chest felt heavy and she could hardly breathe. As she listened, she realized the voices were fading. They were going the other way.

After a moment, Ozai signaled for her to follow him and they sneaked their way through the rest of the passages and out into the tunnels, locking the door behind them. Katara exhaled a ragged breath and slumped over, her hands on her thighs. In the shadows, Ozai was quiet and she stood up then, trying to see his face. There was only darkness.

They treaded quickly and quietly through the tunnels. It was hard to say how long before Ozai's escape would be noticed, but Katara assumed with his security status it would not be long. So they had to hurry. Finally they reached the end and climbed up the ladder and through the hatch into the open air.

Ozai closed his eyes and his chest rose deeply as he inhaled a long, slow breath of fresh air. Katara tried to imagine how it must feel after so long in that dank, musty cell. In that moment he seemed so utterly, starkly human, and for an instant she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Katara looked out over the sleepy lights of the city, lifting her mask to let the cool air kiss her warm dewy face "Okay. You're free," she said, turning to Ozai, uncertain of what was to come. "So now what?"

He turned to her with a sharp smile that made her blood run cold. "Now we're going to pay a little visit to the asylum."

The asylum? But why–? Katara's eyes went wide, her face slack, as the realization dawned her.

He was going to break out Azula.

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 **A/N take two: So I don't consider the love scenes in this chapter to be terribly explicit, but I keep going back and forth on whether to keep the story's rating T or change it to M. I do anticipate more of that kind of thing at some point, but just seasoned throughout. I don't think I plan on getting any crazier than this, LOL. I'm no prude but I doubt I could bring myself to write anything "more" (though I have no problem reading it in other stories), but we'll see. Most likely I'll try to keep it classy without killing the steaminess, but if the rating changes you'll understand why. :) Any and all feedback is welcome.**


	7. Pyre

**A/N: Sorry for the huge delay in updating. My computer died but I have a new one now so hopefully the updates will come more frequently :) Thanks to all who are still with me, reading this story. You keep me going!**

* * *

Ozai was already stalking away and Katara stood frozen, shocked. "No way," she barked after him, slicing a hand through the air. "If you think I'm helping you do this, you can forget it! I already set you free, I've done what you asked."

She planted her feet firmly on the ground, shooting icy daggers at his back, and he stopped finally, turning. He lifted a sharp brow. "You knew it didn't end here. Don't try to play dumb now."

Her mind scrambled for words, anything that might sway him, though she knew in her heart it was a lost cause. "Azula earned her place in that asylum," she pleaded. "You weren't there at the very end, you didn't see the way she came completely unraveled. Setting her free is a huge mistake."

"The only mistake you need to be concerned with at this very moment is your own if you don't do as I say." He stalked a step closer and they stood locked in a thunderous glare. Ozai lifted his chin and his unyielding, flinty eyes bore into her as if he could see right through to her fear. Her helplessness. She was at his mercy now. Katara's fists clenched and unclenched, nails biting into her palms. She said nothing, only conceding with a glower as she followed him down the hill to the path that snaked toward the asylum.

They kept to the shadows in the woods that engulfed the path. The night was calm and quiet in the thick summer air, breached only by the occasional hoot of an owl overhead, watching them. Scolding her. Katara looked up, the tangle of branches silhouetted against the muted moonlight, the sliver of a crescent veiled in wisps of clouds. She let out a tight sigh and suddenly felt as though her life were slipping beyond her grasp, morphing into a thing she didn't recognize and couldn't control. She had never intended to make such a mess of things. For a moment she was a bystander, outside of her own body watching her life derail, bracing for the imminent crash.

The stone walls of the asylum were becoming visible now, patchy through the thinning lattice of trees. They came to a stop at the edge of the woods, obscured by the darkness, and took in their objective. Two guards stood watch outside the entrance, still as statues, their postures attentive and watchful. Ozai leaned toward Katara, his eyes on the sentry, and spoke in a low voice.

"Now, I think you know why you're here. You are to dispose of all guards and personnel you see. Consider it a grand encore to your first performance. Once we're inside, we'll be surrounded and outnumbered. We have one chance at doing this right. So be _thorough_ about it."

"Whoa, hold on," she said, taking a step back. "I'm not killing anyone if that's what you're asking."

Ozai leveled her a searing look. "I'm _not_ asking," he said with a threatening lift of his brow. "We do this my way. Or do I need to remind you what will happen if you refuse?"

Her stomach pinched at the warning. She didn't need to be reminded of what was at stake, what her friends – what Zuko – would do with her if they knew the truth. Not to mention what Ozai might do with her. She knew enough about him to let her imagination fill in the blanks. But senseless killing was a line she was unwilling to cross. "You can't make me murder innocent people. I won't do it. There are other ways."

"I will _not_ take any chances–"

"No," she said firmly, surprised and bolstered by her own boldness. "If you want my help with this, you'll have to let me do it my way."

His amber eyes narrowed, a hard fist pressing into Katara's gut. She resisted the urge to swallow under the pressure and forced herself to hold his gaze. Ozai took a slow step toward her and leaned down so that he was only inches from her face. "You should thank the spirits that you serve a purpose to me here and now, waterbender." The word was an insult on his lips, dripping with bitter disdain. "I've had people killed without a moment's hesitation for less insolence." His cold, threatening glower lingered an uncomfortably long moment. Finally he glanced back at the asylum before turning to her again. "If you make so much as _one_ _error_ –"

"I know what I'm doing. There won't be any problems." Though she wasn't sure whether she meant to convince Ozai or herself.

His mouth formed a hard line but finally he stepped back in averse resignation and nodded. Katara let out the breath she had been holding, but the dread of what they were here to do drowned out any relief she might have felt. Turning toward her targets, she took a slow breath in and lifted her arms, concentrating.

From this distance it took a moment, but there it was. The pulsing of life at her fingertips. She focused on the rhythmic pumping of blood, wrapped her energy around the beating hearts in their chests, and slowly twisted her hands, fingers bending slightly. The hypnotic rhythm was growing sluggish beneath her grip, slower, slower. She twisted her hands farther. Katara fought back the nausea as sickening guilt gnawed at her stomach and tried to focus. The two men grasped at their chests, their throats, clawing at the air as they crumpled to the ground like discarded ragdolls. At a glance, they looked dead but their pulse and blood pressure had simply been lowered so quickly they'd fell unconscious. It would be a long while before they would wake again.

Ozai glanced at her a moment. There was a trace of sick admiration in his eyes. Her stomach twisted. "Let's go."

They crept out of hiding and quickly made their way to the entrance, flattening themselves on either side of the door. With a quick look around, Ozai knelt beside one of the guards and rummaged around in the man's uniform, coming away with a ring of keys and a sheathed long sword he unhooked from the man's back. Ozai stood up and secured the weapon around his belt, then turned his attention to the door. Metal chinked together as he tried different keys in the keyhole, working as quietly and quickly as possible until finally he was rewarded with a click as the lock turned. Ozai unsheathed his sword and shot her a ready look as he opened the door, and they slipped inside.

Being that it was the middle of the night, Katara expected the lobby to be quiet. Instead, four guards were stationed in each corner of the intake room. In the center, a stern-looking woman sat at the desk, bent over a stack of papers. The guards bolted upright, assuming bending positions and the woman looked up absently. Her eyes widened to whites for just an instant before she surged up into a bending stance, the chair clattering loudly to the floor behind her.

Katara could see the woman's chest rise with a sudden breath as she looked at Ozai. "It can't be…" she said -under her breath. The other guards' expressions went slack in shock as recognition dawned on them.

"Intruder alert!" a guard roared, his voice carrying down the corridors. "Drop to the floor, hands flat on the ground, both of you! This is your one and only warn–!"

Katara thrusted an arm out and he went silent, fear washing over his face, and another arm made quick work of a second guard. The other two watched in horror as their comrades slumped to the floor and then they turned and shot multiple bursts of flame toward them.

Ozai dodged the attack with ease and then locked eyes with the intake officer. He shot her a cold smirk and charged at her, light glinting off his sword. The woman growled and took a quick stomping step forward, sending a plume of fire raging toward him. Ozai darted to the side, the flames licking at the hem of his cloak. The officer's arm shot out to launch another attack but Ozai was faster. In one quick motion, he knocked her off balance and buried the sword in the woman's chest. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream as she crumpled to the floor.

Ozai spun to face the last two guards and his eyes widened. Katara had one guard frozen mid-attack and the other mid-stride, her arms extended and jaw quivering with exertion. The first guard's expression was slack with terror as, against his will, his body turned toward his comrade, equally petrified, and then his body went hurtling through the air toward him, their heads colliding with a sickening thud and their bodies collapsing in a heap.

Katara breathed heavily, sweat beaded on her brow, as she turned toward Ozai. He glanced at the four guards on the floor and then back at her, his gaze lingering uncomfortably. His mouth quirked up almost imperceptibly as he nodded his sick approval, and then he motioned for her to follow as he flattened himself against the wall. From the lobby area, two corridors branched off in either direction. Ozai peered around the corner and Katara followed his gaze to a sign hanging above a door just down the right corridor, indicating a stairwell. Signaling her, they crept across the hall and opened the door, stealing inside.

Without stopping, Ozai ascended the stairs and spoke in a low voice over his shoulder. "Azula is on the fourth floor. All doors on that floor are secured with padlocks that can only be opened with a combination of firebending and a key. So I'll need one of the guards conscious."

They climbed up to the second floor, and then the third. As they neared the landing of the third floor, the door to the stairwell opened and in walked a doctor followed by two nurses, chatting quietly. When they saw Katara and Ozai, they froze, clutching at the railing. Katara disposed of the doctor and one of the nurses fairly quickly but before either she or Ozai could stop the last nurse, she darted back through the door, her shouts echoing down the corridor.

Ozai cursed and yanked Katara with him as they raced up the last of the stairwell, bursting through the door to the fourth floor. A floor below, Katara could faintly hear the chaos that was rising as the nurse alerted to their intrusion. The swell of urgent voices. They didn't have much time before they would be swarmed with guards. There was only one now in sight at the end of the hall. Ozai and Katara stormed past some terrified nurses, ignoring them, and the guard only had time to turn before Katara froze him in place.

In one quick motion, Ozai drew his sword and pressed it to the man's throat. "Princess Azula's room. Open it now."

The man's eyes went wide, his chin trembling. "Oz–?"

" _Now_ if you value your life!"

The man gave a shuddering nod and Ozai dragged his immobilized body to the door he indicated. Katara held his palm to the padlock and he shot a sequence of bursts that ended with a click somewhere in the door. The first lock had opened. Ozai ripped the key ring off the guard's belt and turned the key in the lock. The door opened and Ozai turned to the guard with a wry smile. "Thank you," he said before bringing the hilt of his sword down hard on his head.

His body drooped in Katara's hold like a lead weight and she dragged the body inside, shutting the door behind them. She rested the guard as gently as she could against the wall and looked around.

The room struck her as cold and unfriendly. The floors and walls were stark white and the space felt barren save for a bed, a boxy, uninviting chair in the corner, and a simple dresser upon which sat an old half-eaten plate of food.

Azula was bound in a straight-jacket, pacing back and forth and mumbling something to herself when she stopped and turned to them. Her face only pinched in a deeper frown but she seemed otherwise unfazed by their presence. She looked away again and resumed her pacing.

"Ah, father. I was wondering when you'd finally show up. Mother, mother – it's _always_ mother. They told me the pills would make the hallucinations go away. Well, we can see how well _that_ worked."

Katara ran a hand along her arm and glanced at Ozai. She couldn't see his face from where she stood but she guessed he must have looked as confused and uncomfortable as she felt. Katara had tried to warn him, but nothing could have prepared either of them for the shock of seeing her now, in person. The way the prodigy princess had been diminished to such a pitiable existence.

Ozai took a step forward. "Azula, you're not hallucinating. We've come to get you out."

Azula stopped finally and studied her father a moment before her gaze moved past him and settled on Katara. Her eyes widened to whites, shock melting into palpable anger. "Now I know this can't be real," she spat. "My father would _never_ betray me by bringing that filthy water serpent into my presence. Oh, how I wish she _was_ here so I could give her the rematch she deserves!"

"Azula," he said again, bringing a firm hand down on her shoulder.

She gasped then, peering down at his hand like it was some dangerous animal, her eyes widening as they slid up to meet his face. "Father," she rasped, blinking. "How–?"

Ozai turned her around and unlocked the straight jacket, throwing the stiff fabric to the floor. Azula closed her eyes, breathing deeply, as she stretched her arms out. Holding her hands in front of her face, she glowered at the cuffs that sat on each of her wrists. Katara noticed she had them on her ankles too. Chi blocking cuffs, she realized. Placed on pressure points to prevent her from bending.

Somewhere down the corridor came the distant, muffled sound of shouting and hurried footsteps. Katara glanced at the door. "We need to hurry."

Her voice drew Azula's attention back to Katara. This time, her face twisted in rage as reality settled upon her. There was an electric charge in the air and a tiny spark fizzled in Azula's palm despite the manacle around her wrist. Katara's breath hitched and she took a small step back. With a wild cry, Azula charged forward and Ozai yanked her hands behind her back, restraining her.

"Let me at her!" The shriek of her voice almost wasn't human. Maniacal. Untethered fury. She writhed against her father's hold, the cords of her neck standing out as she screamed. "I'll show her what a true fight is! What it means to burn!"

"Azula!" Ozai growled forcefully, shaking her. "Calm yourself or I'll be forced to do it for you."

She stopped struggling but her body still shook with fury. Her nostrils flared with rushed breathing, her ruthless glare never veering from Katara.

"All will be explained but now is not the time. We have to move." He urged her toward the door but she jerked back.

"Wait." Azula held out her wrists. "Take these off me."

Katara raised her brows and felt her stomach knot as she glanced between them. "Ozai, no."

Ozai's eyes slid to Katara and he hesitated. He fingered the key ring in his hand and studied his daughter, frowning.

"Don't," she pleaded again. She wanted to reach out and tear the keys from his grasp.

"Shut up, water wench! Father, please."

Ozai frowned harder and stepped toward Azula. "I'm not sure I can trust you to act rationally in your present state–"

Azula scoffed, her face pinched in a tight scowl. "So, you take orders from the water peasant now? My, how prison's changed you."

"Watch your tongue," he growled, shooting her a menacing look. "Or I'll teach you a lesson in respect to match your brother." He let the threat hang in the air before continuing. "I'm not sure I can trust you, _but_ we need the advantage now." Ozai took her wrist and fitted a small key into the cuff. It fell to the floor with a clatter.

"What are you doing?!" Katara cried out. "This is a mistake!"

Ozai held Azula's one bare wrist in his hand. She shot him a look, gesturing impatiently to the other cuffs.

" _One_ ," he said. "The rest will come off later."

Azula scowled but lowered her eyes in resignation. She fixed a threatening smile on Katara then, and a pit formed in her stomach. Ozai must have read Azula's expression because he yanked her wrist that was still in his grasp, drawing her eyes to him. "The waterbender is to remain unharmed. Do not make me regret this decision."

Her brows puckered with a question but Ozai turned and went to the door, opening it just enough to peer through. Outside, the clamor of shouts and heavy, hurried footsteps were growing closer, resounding in the barren corridor.

"Now, on my signal," he whispered over his shoulder, "run straight for the stairwell and use whatever force necessary to make it out of the building." He held a hand up, waiting for an opening, and then quickly gestured to them to follow. The three of them dashed down the corridor toward the stairwell door. They were almost there when a shout rang out behind them.

"Over here! They have Azula and she is _unrestrained_! Repeat, Azula is–!"

A bolt of lightning shot out, blinding in the stark white halls, and the guard's shouts ended in a gargle. The woman's body seized and spasmed under the powerful current of electricity and then went limp. A swarm of guards rounded the corner behind her and Katara gathered every shred of strength she had and sent four of the sentry to the ground simultaneously, then four more, Azula firing burst after burst of flames. Ozai and Katara darted into the stairwell and Azula shot off one last bolt of lightning. There were screams and zaps of light in the corridor as Azula dashed in the door behind them and the three of them raced down the stairwell, two and three steps at a time.

Katara's arms were burning, heavy at her sides, her chi exhausted. If they were cut off at the exit, she wasn't sure how many more she could handle. At the first floor, Ozai threw open the door and came to a screeching halt. At least eight more guards were there waiting for them. Her heart sank.

The guard in front formed a ball of fire in his hand, ready to strike. "This is your final chance to surrender. Otherwise we will be forced to take violent action."

Ozai drew his sword with a _shink_ and Azula let out a maniacal laugh. The guards' fear was palpable but they stood their ground. The first sentry's brows settled low as he drew back his arm for the attack. Katara curled her arm and instantly he went rigid. Ozai kicked him down hard, sending him barreling into two other guards, and shoved his sword into the gut of another. Azula arced out a wide searing fan of flames as deafening screams resounded at the base of the corridor. The scent of burning hair sizzled in the air as the guards howled and recoiled, and Ozai, Katara, and Azula shoved past them. At the exit, Azula turned and summoned an enormous bolt of lightning that ricocheted off the walls and ended with screams of agony. Katara forced the bile down that rose into her throat as the three of them raced through the exit and down the walkway, escaping into the dark cover of the woods.

Behind them, shouts were beginning to swell as guards and personnel poured from the asylum, both in pursuit and to escape the flames that were catching from the lightning. Katara could hear frantic orders being barked to chase them down and her chest tightened as they ran further into the woods. The three of them pushed themselves past the point of exhaustion, zigzagging and crisscrossing to make tracking them more difficult. Katara's chest burned and her legs ached, and she thought she might collapse when Ozai finally slowed and they all came to a stop.

Katara slumped over, her hands on her thighs, as she gasped for breath. Azula staggered and leaned against a nearby tree, a hand on her chest. Ozai stood, his chest rising and falling rapidly, staring intently into the darkness. Finally, when no sound of pursuit came, his shoulders relaxed a degree.

Katara felt weak, and not entirely from the night's exertion. Images of lightning bolts and flames licking up the asylum, all the innocent people and patients still trapped in the building… Her stomach churned sluggishly and she squeezed her eyes shut against the nausea.

"All those people…" she croaked out, still bent toward the ground. "So many innocent people who might not make it out."

Azula snorted and stalked toward her and Katara stood up then, challengingly. " _You_ should have been one of them!" she half screamed, half hissed, trying to keep her voice low. "Why don't we correct that now?"

"Azula," Ozai cautioned.

"This was _never_ supposed to happen!" Katara barked at Ozai, ignoring Azula's threats, tears rimming her eyes out of anger and guilt. "You agreed that we wouldn't kill anyone!"

Azula glared wide-eyed at Katara, her nostrils flaring, and then leveled the same glare on Ozai, blinking long and hard. " _What_ … are you doing… with _her_?" she growled low, dangerously.

Ozai stepped toward her and Azula shrunk back slightly as he came before her. "The waterbender and I have an arrangement. I helped her if she agreed to help me. You may wish to thank her, in fact, as none of this would have been possible without her."

Azula seethed, her eyes darting briefly to Katara. "And your escape from prison?"

Ozai nodded toward Katara and Azula exhaled sharply through her nose, casting her glare to the ground before looking at Ozai again.

"Well, it appears to me like your little arrangement has reached its end now. So, if you've no further need for the water wench, I'd be happy to take her off your hands." She shot a wicked smile at Katara and Katara glowered back.

"I'm afraid that's not in the cards today," Ozai said coolly.

Azula's hands clenched to fists and she started to retort when Ozai cut her off.

"Do not think your freedom doesn't come with a price, dear daughter. I have a job for you."


End file.
